#this man has so many useless talents in this timeline

[dp-time-police]

"And so, while he isn't as difficult to manage as I originally anticipated... I would still have less difficulty in selling my company and starting up a dairy farm. But overall, I'd grade Daniel a C+ in terms of "Ease of Protecting."

"Addendum, since Daniel is being so fussy-- I have instead decided to bump him down to a solid C instead." "HEY!!"

Thank you to @princess-pathetic-112898 for the ask!

[allycat75]

I don't know why, but I still hope there is time for you, Boston Dumb Fuck. I hope you deserve the consideration and kindness still offered you.

Despite what you may think, I am actually rooting for you. I think you got tangled up in something nefarious that was bigger than you thought and didn't have the proper people around you or the coping skills to get you out. But the decisions and their ensuing consequences are still your own, so let me remind you why I am here and why I will continue to push you (not that I think you are reading my posts. I am just screaming into a void):

You roped us all into this by trying to convince us you are happy in a relationship when it is obvious to almost anyone you don't like her. You maybe thought you were helping the cause by doing a bad job, but that act to save yourself came crashing down on your observant fans, hard. Because when we pointed out the many obvious inconsistencies, we were branded as crazy and jealous. Then there is the gaslighting with changing timelines, photoshopped pictures, sightings and non-sightings, poorly acted jump scares and general mindfuckery. You can't now un-invite us to the party because you don't like what we are saying about the ambiance, like a spoiled brat at her Sweet Sixteen celebration. We will defend ourselves from lies and manipulation and not accept the labels of "unhinged", "bully", "crusty old hag", "mentally unstable" or "delulu" (among others)

She is an awful person and by tying yourself to her like this you implicitly approve of her racism, antisemitism, fatshaming, arrogance, clout-chasing and entitlement, forever. That hypocrisy cannot go unnoticed considering your former stances on these subjects and your role as the face of ASP. The site may be useless and bland on its own, but politics is full of people talking out of both sides of their mouths, and you have made the platform potentially polarizing at a time when we need serious, clear discussions with no distractions

The fact that you look absolutely miserable and discuss your life as if it is not your own is more than a little unnerving. This is in no way to shame you, but rather out of a genuine concern for your safety and why you did this to yourself when you had every opportunity provided (hence, the "Dumb Fuck"). You have talent, but are wasting it on brain-dead pap because you seem afraid of depth and unearthing something blocked deep within your psyche

Show how your behavior parallels the issues of the world at large and how we accept things we shouldn't. We have kept quiet about unchecked privlege, intent vs. impact, performative activism, being child-like vs. childish, ageism, greed, mental illness and wellness, the power and weaponry of sexuality, toxic masculinity and misogyny, generational wealth, integrity, alternative facts and emotional truths, misinformation and disinformation, value placed on hard work, attributes of healthy relationships, preciousness of time, and the effects we have on our fellow mortals, all of which has got us to now, on the brink of societal destruction. And we see this epitomized in the microcosm of your shitshow

And I don't care if this is just how it is done in Hollywood. It shouldn't be- it's dumb, dangerous, unethical and doesn't work. Movies used to not have sound and Harvey the Hutt used to be a free and powerful man. Things evolve!

So please do better and until you do, I will be supporting you and calling you out on your shit. It's called tough love, and it may not be for everyone, but it is the tactic I am using for now. Anyone who disagrees has every right to block and/or ignore me. The only one I wish to debate any of this with is the BDF himself, and he ain't listening.

[allmightluver]

So, what is your take on the EM relationship? Who was the one to fall first and confess? Please support your speculations/opinions with canonical evident, if you'd like 😏 (BECAUSE YOU'RE SO DAMN GOOD AT IT ❤️) Thank you for your time 🙏

Oh goodness

You really want me to go all out huh Kunshi 😏

Well, I’ll try to summarize this as best I can ***(This may have some spoilers so be warned)**

The relationship between All Might and Eraserhead has been quite the journey. You can say, frenemies to “hey you’re not so bad”. They’ve known of each other for years, before the present timeline. Here in Vigilante’s, Eraserhead tells Tsukauchi that the situation they’re in is so dire, they need the Number 1. Aizawa acknowledges how powerful All Might is, despite disapproving of how handles media and fame.

But they didn’t really know each other until All Might started at UA. 

Aizawa believed Yagi to be reckless, irresponsible, and foolish in taking a job he has no training for. Not to mention the obvious favoritism. Yagi believed Aizawa to be too harsh and cold hearted on the children. Though as the two got to know each other, and went through traumatic events together (USJ and Kamino), they started to warm up more to each other, actually taking the time to get to know one another. 

All Might rushes to an injured Aizawa’s side, and the sight of how broken, bloodied and damaged his co-worker is visibly upsets him. The way Toshinori’s voice softens as he apologizes to Aizawa, unclear if it’s out loud or in his mind. Toshinori probably feels terrible whenever anyone’s been injured, but he seems particularly held up over Aizawa, most likely because he himself couldn’t be there when it happened. He was of being a hero all morning, and wasted all his time in his muscle form, so he wasn’t there with them like he should have been. Which meant Aizawa and (Thirteen) had to fight to protect the students, even if they were clearly unmatched. They were both badly injured in the process, all because Toshinori wasn’t there.

Then after the fight, Toshinori cuts his friend, Tsukauchi, off and asks how Aizawa, wait, Eraserhead, is doing. Oh and Thirteen too. He was relieved to find he they were alright.

When Kamino hit we see how intently Aizawa watches the news, watches All Might, watches Toshinori. He was clearly concerned, and in seeing AFO summon his many quirks in order to eliminate All Might once and for all, Aizawa’s concern only grows. And for good reason.

As an after effect, the students needed to move into dorms. Aizawa and Toshinori are paired together to speak to 1A’s students. It’s in the car that Aizawa, awkwardly, offers to buy Toshinori a drink. To which Toshinori politely declines, as he can’t drink. (*face palm*) 

However, after dealing with Bakugo’s...different family, Toshinori nudges Aizawa with an elbow his injured arm no less, and whispers that he now owes Aizawa a drink. 

Dunno about you, but I’d have to be pretty comfortable with someone before I’m close enough to nudge them and whisper secrets. And Toshinori is always seeking to know Aizawa better, be closer, impress him.

They even go out on a date to get a drink together.  Toshinori’s inner dialogue is the most interesting, from “I’m going to be even better friends with Aizawa-kun...!” to “All Might, you just gotta push past the walls of Aizawa-kun’s heart!” ...uh huh. To which Mic and Midnight totally crash their “Secret Dinner Outing” and invite themselves to stay, much to Toshinori’s (”Or on second thought...probably not then.”) and Aizawa’s despair (”Go home!” x3). Get outta here, you’re ruining our date!  And after Toshinori takes his leave, Aizawa chases him down outside to say....? “Thank you very much. I’m drunk right now so I probably wouldn’t say this if I wasn’t. But because you fought at Kamino and took down AFO for us, I’ll do my part and look after the students as much as I can. That’s why I want to thank you for everything.” To which after a silence, Toshinori responds with, “Aizawa-kun, let’s watch over the students from here on out together.” ...to which Aizawa mentions he won’t remember any of this and to never bring it up ever again.  (*repeat face palm*)

This only proves they’re becoming much, much, closer. They’ve gone beyond plus ultra frenemies and onto true friends. They take each other’s words and thoughts into account in a serious manner, like how Yagi managed to convince Aizawa to let him go to Bakugo and Midoriya when they snuck out, as well as going easy on punishment for them.

Aizawa’s also shown growing concern for Toshinori after his retirement. Firstly from seeing Toshinori out and about so soon after Kamino while he was still recovering from his injuries. And on the occasion a falling rock nearly connects to Toshinori’s head, you can see how quickly Aizawa reacts. The way you can almost see a flashback of his childhood friend’s unfortunate death running through his head as he tries to save Toshinori from the same fate. Once Midoriya saves Toshinori, Aizawa still reaches out to him, like he’s worried the man may get hurt, break, as he tells him that it’s not safe in this environment, and that Toshinori should leave, go where it’s safe.

When Aizawa couldn’t attend Bakugo and Todoroki’s extra classes, he asks Toshinori to go in his place, and even makes Present Mic go along as a body guard. He’s clearly concerned for the former hero’s safety and well-being. Toshinori now often fills in for Aizawa if he can’t make it to his own class.

When Midoriya’s new quirk is discovered, Aizawa takes Toshinori’s anxiety about the situation seriously, and they immediately go to put a stop to the training battle. 

But once Midoriya’s quirk settles down, Aizawa decides to let this play out, and calms Toshinori, saying he’ll put a stop to it if the situation happens again.

He later describes Toshinori as a genius, naturally talented, when explaining to Shinsou how he doesn’t expect the kid to be on the same level with the others in the hero course right off the bat. Aizawa has extreme respect for Toshinori.

The biggest moment between the two is late on a snowy night, when Toshinori sits outside in the cold, alone, contemplating...well, his life honestly. Aizawa find’s him, “there you are,” apparently looking for the taller man. Toshinori at first automatically deflects any questions about himself, and asks about the children. He then offers to help Aizawa with training Eri, in which the underground hero gladly accepts (something that Aizawa would not have done in the past, as he hated even speaking to the older man before). But Aizawa can see through the façade, and asks what’s wrong. Aizawa is one of, if not the only, person Toshinori confides in so deeply.  Horkioshi confirmed recently that of everyone (adults, I assume), pro heroes included, Toshinori is the closest to Aizawa. Toshinori decides he can trust Aizawa with his mental weights. He’s decided to live, but feels useless staying alive, powerless, unable to help anyone, or at least how the children need him to. 

Aizawa’s initially unnerved at the fact that Toshinori decided to live, as if the contemplation of otherwise was there. But he listens quietly, intently, to what Toshinori says. Finally, he tries to reason with the older man that being a workaholic, and never having time to rest, isn’t good either, points out that after holding up the country for decades, suddenly not having it has left an addiction. Toshinori doesn’t know what to do if he’s not running himself ragged. But also tells him that he is helping the students--by being alive, and by being here for them. There are a lot of people (Aizawa included?) that gain strength, just by Toshinori being there, alive. And he asks him to please keep on living and acting like his normal self. Toshinori’s overcome with emotion at his words.

For a relationship between the two, I’m sure they both would have had feelings for quite some time before ever admitting to it. Knowing their personalities, Aizawa would feel his feelings were illogical and deceptive. Toshinori is just a tad older than him, has met probably thousands more people than Aizawa ever will, and he was the number one hero. Falling for a guy like that just seemed too predictable and annoying. But Aizawa soon learns the differences between All Might and Toshinori, and while the latter still rubs him the wrong way at times, the tall, willowy man has managed to capture his heart. He feels compelled to care for the other, make sure he’s taking proper care of himself. And yet he tells himself it’s too invasive of the other man’s privacy; none of his business. When Mic and Midnight drag him to the bar and question him why his mood was off, he’d give no answer save for a shrug, and down another beer.

Toshinori would have feelings rather early, but most likely not realize they were more than just finally getting the grouchy Aizawa-kun to tolerate him. As weeks go by, he would catch his heart racing at Aizawa’s presence, blushing when the scruffy man would make tea for him after a coughing fit, and way too elated when Aizawa accepted the invitation for a drink together, alone. One night it would hit him just exactly how he feels for the younger man, and his heart would clench. Surely Aizawa couldn’t feel the same way, especially for a man as old, sickly, and awkward as himself. Even if it were possible, his own death is due to come within the next year, and he couldn’t do that to Aizawa-kun. He’d spend several nights fighting and eventually failing to quietly let his tears fall into the pillow below him as he tries to sleep, alone.

The two would cautiously work together, stepping around their own feelings to keep things normal between them. All the while Aizawa’s brain would fight against his heart, and Toshinori’s chest would tighten until a bloody cough was produced.

Finally, finally, after Mic and Midnight pry it out of Aizawa like a game of Operation, they force him to ask Toshinori out. It takes a week, but Aizawa finally finds the right moment to ask the former hero out for a drink and bar food. Glamorous as always, especially for a first date. But Toshinori gladly accepts, and spends the rest of the day convincing himself it’s just a friendly supper, between friends, not a date.

That night the two have a lovely evening of greasy bar food (which Toshinori politely only orders a small plate of fries, as there’s nothing blander on the menu) and beer (Toshinori also drinks a plain water). Aizawa apologizes for not taking Toshinori’s diet into account when picking where they met, and says he’ll let Toshinori pick the restaurant next time. Toshinori freezes at his wording. Aizawa’s quick to try and resolve, but Toshinori stops him. Asks him what exactly this is. A friendly dinner? Or something more? Aizawa buries into his scarf, and answers with a question in return; what do you want it to be? It’s then Toshinori sets his glass down, takes a moment to breathe, before spilling that he’d hoped it was a date. He’s bright red as he explains how he believes he’s developed...feelings over the months working together. That he wanted to go out again, but that he hadn’t wanted to force his feelings on Aizawa. Who would want someone like him?

These two have so much chemistry. They’ve been through so much together already: disagreements, near deaths, critical injuries, awkward moments of a budding friendship, talking each other off the ledge. In all the ships of the series, EraserMight has one of the most obvious connections and chemistries.

[ukaisprincesss]

a/n: happy birthday to the one and only 😌

word count: 2.8k

semi-edited

———————————————————————

warnings: *inhales* 18+ smut, reader obsessed with dabi, quirk use, degradation, betrayal, oral m!recieving, name calling, dumification if you squint, dabi with a dick piercing, cursing, very minor blood mention, deep throating, slight violence, implied fighting, humiliation, smoking, inaccurate timeline, mind control kinda, choking, slightly insane reader, fingering, breeding kink if you squint

“Bye y/n! See you later for training!” Izuku waved at you with a grin on his face. You waved back before turning around and taking the route home. Your third year at UA was almost over, sometimes it felt like you were still a first year marveling at the wonders UA held for you.

Humming your favorite song Hero Too, you skipped along the sidewalk taking in the sounds and smells around you. This invoked a new melody inside you, your quirk taking over. You let out peals of notes inspired by your surroundings.

Your quirk, Melody, enabled you to use your surroundings and inspirations to create songs and tunes. You could use these tunes to overload the enemy with your inspiration. If you were inspired by a certain smell and the enemy heard you singing, that smell would invade your enemies scent overwhelmingly so. The same applies to their other 4 senses.

You always made sure no one was in range when you used your quirk to sing, you learned that the hard way as a kid.

Hmm, maybe you should stop and get something to eat. You only had a light lunch and still had a few hours before dinner. Deciding to get some Yakitori from a nearby stand, you changed direction and walked into town. The noises and smells were more harsh now, making it a bit difficult to not activate your quirk. Years of practice has helped you keep a hold on it, particularly when you’re in cities or at get togethers.

“Thanks!” you said to the woman working the stand, you handed over the respectable cost and searched for a good place to eat. Seeing a lone bench against a graffiti covered wall, you made your way toward it nibbling on your food. Before you could take your seat you were pulled backward and your vision went dark. A large hand covered your eyes.

“Guess who?” A husky voice spoke in your ear, cold staples brushed against your face sending a shiver up your spine. Your heart pounded in your chest as you let out a shaky breath. You kicked your lips before speaking. “Dabi...what are you doing here?”

Removing his hand you turned towards him, placing your hands on his chest. You stared into his icy eyes, the spark of emotion only present for you sent your heart soaring. He leaned down to press his lips against yours. Licking along your lips, he thrusted his tongue to entangle with yours. You let him take control, gripping his hair as you sunk into a lust filled haze. There was just something about Dabi that made you want to carry the world for him. You would do anything for him.

Dabi pulled away, you whined and leaned forward for more. He gripped your jaw, holding you in place. “You didn’t forget did you y/n?” He muttered, a frown on his face. You shook your head, smiling at him with adoration.

“Happy birthday baby, I was going to surprise you later but...it seems like you couldn’t stay away from me for too long.” You giggled and missed the flash of annoyance in his eyes. You thoroughly believed the villain was just as infatuated with you as you were him.

“Hm, yeah thank you. Anything new happen? When’s your next trip out of UA?” He questioned. What you didn’t realize was he was getting intel for the League of Villains. You thought he just wanted to know about your day and schedule. You were aware of the villainous role he played in the League of Villains, but that didn’t stop you from loving him. “Well, nothing yet but Mr.Aizawa won’t be here for the next few days. Izuku and I have some extra training tonight around 8 by the old wareh-”

You were cut off when Dabi pushed you to your knees, clearly hearing enough. “You know what to do y/n, I think it’s time for my birthday gift.” He looked down at you with a regal stare, effectively turning you on. Your pussy tingled as you rubbed your thighs together, eager to please the man you worshipped. You unbutton his pants and slide them down to land around his feet. His cock slapped your face, you were prepared as he usually went commando. You practically drooled at the sight, to you it was perfect. A large vein on the underside of his cock reaching the silver barbell that lay underneath his large mushroom head.

“What are you waiting for? Do your job slut.” Dabi looked down at you, teeth bared in irritation. You let out a purr of amusement and stroked his dick, pressing kitten licks along the head. Dabi huffed in annoyance, fisting your hair. “Stop teasing,” he muttered. You looked up with wide eyes, slowly taking his large cock into your mouth. No matter how many times you’ve sucked him off, you could never take his whole length by yourself. Relaxing your jaws as best as you could, you pushed your head forward and started to gag. You didn’t even have half of his cock in your mouth, you whined in disappointment and squeezed his thigh.

“God you’re fucking useless, I’ll have to get myself off as I always do.” Dabi growled and grabbed your head with both his hands, shoving his dick down your throat. You choked and gurgled, drool spilling out the sides of your mouth. The humiliation of not being able to please him hurt more than your mouth being stuffed with his cock. Maybe he didn’t mean it, maybe he just wasn’t in the mood. You were brought out of your head as the lack of oxygen kicked in. You struggled to keep your mouth around his cock, your mind telling you to pull back for air. No, you had to please him.

“You better not pull back whore, you’ll regret it.” Dabi gritted out, inhaling sharply. He threw his head back and let out a loud moan, not caring who could hear.

You willed yourself to hold out for a bit longer, but soon it was too much. You wrenched your head back with a gasp, breathing in heavy gulps of air. Tears trailed down your cheeks, you sniffed and looked up, taking his cock back into your mouth. Twirling your tongue around the head, right hand stroking the base of his cock and the other fondling his balls.

“Fuck y/n, that’s it, just like that. You suck my cock so good, my little cock sucker.” Dabi grinned, laying down more lewd words that went straight to your cunt. You could feel your juices slick your panties, your throbbing clit begging for attention. Hollowing your cheeks, you bobbed up and down his cock , his moans of pleasure spurring you on. Dabi came with a grunt, shoving his cock deep in your mouth, sending his seed down your throat. You swallowed as quick as you could, his large load burning your throat. He slowly pulled out, excess drool and cum covering his dick.

You sat up on shaky legs, the grit from the ground beneath you had dug into your knees and left small dots of blood and dirt marks. “Is it my turn now Dabi?” You asked excitedly, cunt throbbing at the thought of his long talented tongue.

He pulled up his pants and lit a cigarette with the tip of his finger. Dabi inhaled and let the nicotine run through him. He sure needed it after that. Turning to you, he blew it on your face, smirking as you let out a series of coughs.

“You know I hate when you do that.” You whined.

“Yeah, I know.” Dabi retaliated, taking another drag. “It’s time for you to leave, I have things to do.” He quickly brushed a scarred hand across your cheek and walked down the empty alley before you even had a chance to whine. You huffed angrily and dusted off your knees before grabbing your bag that fell in a suspiciously green puddle. It was upsetting having Dabi leave so soon, especially on his birthday. But if everything went right, you would see him soon again.

When you arrived home you took a shower and lounged around, waiting for the clock to hit 8. That was when you and Deku were going to train in a place where you could let your quirks out. You had to be in top shape for an upcoming infiltration mission. Your quirk was extremely useful in these situations, having only three limits. Whenever one of your senses were blocked, you couldn’t use that sense on other people. If your vocal cords are restricted in some way, then you wouldn’t be able to sing. Range being the last. If someone couldn’t hear you, your quirk didnt affect them.

It wasn’t long before your phone went off, alerting you that you had an hour before it was time to meet with your friend. You sat up and stretched, crumbs falling off your shirt from your snacks. Your mind drifted to Dabi again as you cleaned up the living area and put your costume on. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he was acting a bit odd, did you really piss him off that much? Shaking that thought away, you made sure you had everything and took the short walk to your destination.

~

“Are you sure about this?” Shigaraki hissed, not trusting the young adult one bit. Dabi threw his head back in exasperation. “Come on now, you assigned me to her in the first place. She’s fucking dense and tells me everything. Are we going or not?” Dabi’s insult to you hid his true feelings well. For the most part he saw you as only a pawn in the grand scheme of things, something he would chuck aside when the time came. But he couldn’t deny that small twinge of attention you took from him that manifested into something bigger.

“Of course we’re going!” Shigaraki slammed his cracked fist on the bar counter. “I won’t get another opportunity like this any time soon. Gather everyone and let’s go.”

~

“Hey Izuku!” You jogged towards your friend who sat on a bench waiting for your arrival. His fluffy green hair reassuring you it was him. Hearing his name being called, he looked up from his book and greeted you. “Oh, hey y/n! You’re a bit early.” You nodded and laughed, standing in front of him. “I was just sitting around so I wanted to come quick and train. I want to try out that new strategy of yours.” Izuku nodded and stood up. The two of you stretched and began practicing some light moves.

You failed to notice the pair of turquoise eyes on you, beckoning you forward. Dabi turned to Shigaraki and said, “Have dark hole over there warp me behind y/n. She doesn’t see me.” Shigaraki stared at the boy before turning towards Kurogiri. Kurogiri stepped forward and warped a portal in front of Dabi.

“Step in,” he instructured.

Dabi stepped through, hands lit with blue flames.

y/n and Izuku had briefly stopped their training to catch their breath. If the villians had taken an extra moment to pay close attention, they would’ve caught y/n’s moving throat and the low pitched noise that met their ears. You were singing.

The moment Dabi warped behind you, before he could even reach out, heroes from all around struck upon the Shigaraki and the others. The unprepared villains bunkered in a nearby abandoned building desperately fell on the defense as the wave of heroes blocked their exits. Kurogiri was the first one secured.

“Well would you like at that?” Dabi hissed, the faintest sign of nerves present. “Time for us to leave sugar.” Sending a burst of flames to the green-haired boy who was racing around the two, Dabi secured his grip on you and raced away.

“Dabi over there!” You cried out, clutching his shoulders. You pointed to an old warehouse that was used for quirk experimentation back in the day. A large padlocked fence holed it in. He scaled the fence with ease and darted around the side. Vaulting through a broken window, he set you down and peered outside.

“Well y/n it seems like-” Dabi was hit with a wave of pure lust. He sniffed the air, what was that intoxicating smell? He turned around dazed, peering at you with hooded eyes.

“y/n no,” he garbled, stumbling towards you. He lifted up his hand, lighting a weak flame. Another wave of unbearable lust flashed over him. He groaned and fell to his knees.

You stalked forward and kneeled down next to Dabi. You didn’t need to sing anymore, your job was done. Sending the most intoxicating and sexual smells and sounds from yourself to Dabi’s sense, you had turned him into an insatiable sex machine.

“You’re probably feeling a bit betrayed right now.” You said in the most sensuous voice Dabi ever heard. “I only lied to you a bit though. I really am infatuated with you, just not in the way you think. Forgive me?” You pouted, hand under his chin to meet his eyes.

Dabi was too busy palming his cock to answer. A wicked grin spread across your face. “Ah, is my Dabi all hard? Do you want to fuck me one last time?” You questioned, fingers trailing down his torso.

“God y/n, please I cant help it. I need your tight cunt.” Dabi moaned, his cock pulsing in need to stuff your wet pussy. You chuckled and cooed at him. “Don’t worry baby, I’m all yours for the taking. Use me, fuck me with all the hate you have for me.”

Dabi growled and lashed out, pinning you beneath him. He rutted against you with breathless moans, hands on your throat. He squeezed tightly, cutting off your airway. You clawed at his hands, loosening them to laugh manically. Dabi burned several holes in your costume shredding it off you.

“Fuck,” he groaned out, staring at your soaking wet panties. “You’re still such a slut for me.” He pulled them aside not having the patience to take them off before stuffing two fingers into your cunt. You moaned and lifted your hips, his fingers scissoring deep inside you. Pressing his thumb against your clit, he rubbed in slow circles. You scrambled for a hold on the ground, back arching as you came. Your pussy quivered around his fingers, clutching onto them. He pulled them out with a drunk grin and sucked them into his mouth. “Your cunt is the tastiest thing I’ve ever had.” He moaned out, licking the sides of his fingers to collect every drop of your juices.

You sat up on your elbows with a dazed expression, watching him lick his fingers. It turned you on, leaving your cunt to drip on the concrete beneath you. Dabi grabbed your ankles and pulled you to him. Tearing his pants off in haste, he picked you up and sat you down on his cock with a heavy thrust.

“Oh fuck!” You both moaned out in sync, gripping onto each other. Dabi thrust into you unrelentingly, moaning out your name. “This tight cunt is mine y/n, all fucking mine. No one is going to take you from me.” He howled out, mind taken over by the smell and sight of you. He leaned forward taking your breast in his mouth. He sucked harshly, leaving your nipple swollen.

“D-dabi fuck!” You stuttered out. The stimulation of his fat cock in you and his lips on your nipple drove you to orgasm. Your cunt tightened around his dick, inciting a groan from him.

He grunted and wrapped a hand around your throat, holding you up with one arm and his cock. “That’s right slut, cum around my dick. Your pussy is so needy for me.” He thrusted deeply, hitting your cervix. Your eyes rolled back as you gurgled out a moan. He battered your cervix relentlessly, leaving you a pathetic drooling mess. Pressing you against the wall, he placed his hands by your head and fucked you at a new angle. The pleasure was unbearable, your mind swirled with nothing but Dabi’s continuous thrusts.

“I’m g-gonna cum y/n, fuck I’m gonna cum. Your pussy s’good.” Dabi was just as incoherent as you were, drunk on lust. Rooting himself deep in you, he groaned as his seed spurted against your womb. His eyes rolled back at the thought of breeding you, leaving you pregnant with his kids.

You were left quivering, his twitching cock triggering another orgasm. You gasped and clawed his back, biting your lip. Dabi pulled out his now soft cock, his piercing leaving a burning sensation against the walls of your battered pussy.

Dabi slumped to the floor, his vision spotting. You crawled towards him out of breath. “Happy Birthday Dabi,” you muttered, pressing a kiss against his lips. Dabi slipped into unconsciousness, not once waking up as he was taken away by the pro heroes to live an imprisoned life in solitude.

[josefavomjaaga]

Letters from 1814

All texts, as usual, from Helfert, "Joachim Murat"

Mier to Metternich. (postscript, in chiffres]. Naples 8 July 1814.

My Prince!

The Sieur Baudus who, when the King of Naples declared war on France, had given his resignation from the place of Sub-Governor to the Princes, who is among the most vocal against the party that the King had chosen, and who intrigued together with the Minister of Finance to tie the King to the interests of Napoleon and to make him break all the engagements contracted with our court, and did all he could to make him slow and indecisive in his steps and to inspire him with distrust against Austria (protected moreover by the Queen and enjoying her confidence), he remained until now in Naples under various excuses always hoping that the King would restore him in his place. Seeing himself deceived in his hopes he determined to choose another battlefield for his intrigues. He succeeded in persuading the King and even more the Queen that by means of his relations with Talleyrand he could be very useful to them at the Congress of Vienna where this Minister is due to go.

The day before yesterday he left for Munich, from where he plans to go to Vienna. As this clever and skilful man will not fail to present himself to Your Highness, I thought it necessary to give Him an idea of this in order to put Him on his guard against the machinations of this intriguer.

I have the honour etc.

When I read »Munich«, I think »Eugène«. Unfortunately, I could not find out if Baudus met with Eugène there. But it would have been possible, Eugène seems to have remained in Munich for most of July and only went to Baden in August.

I did however find an interesting passage in a biography on Caroline Murat by Florence de Baudus that relates to this departure. Apparently, Murat got so anxious and desperate about the last French of his suite leaving his court that Caroline had to ask Agar to calm him and prevent he actually acted against them in his outrage.

In Vienna, Baudus met with Metternich and seems to have received plenty of reassurance for Murat. Beugnot, chief of police in Paris, already knows that Metternich has declared himself a friend of the Murats, much to te chagrin of Louis XVIII.

Mier to Metternich, Naples this 21st October 1814.

My Prince!

Not having been informed about Capitaine Malkzewski being sent as a courier to Vienna, I was not able to take advantage of his departure to pass on to Your Highness my present report: General Boulnois in the service of France, lieutenant in the Garde du Corps, who last had been charged with handing over Corfu to the allied troops, arrived in this capital during the night of the 12th to the 13th. He immediately asked to be admitted to the King. His Majesty granted his request. He began his speech with a thousand protestations of attachment and admiration for the King and told Him that he would take charge of the overtures or proposals which His Majesty would like to make to Louis XVIII, and which would be accepted only through his channel; that he would send a courier to his government on the spot or would bring them to his attention himself; that Louis XVIII was a great admirer of the King's military talents; that Sovereigns must put their personal and family interests above those of their people; that one wished to know in France the views and the policy of the King, the conduct which He would hold if war were to resume; that by his position and the means which He has at his disposal, He could not remain a simple spectator; that He could play a great role in Italy whose inhabitants are dissatisfied with the present order of things and ask only for a leader; that one could agree on many things etc. etc.

The King, who immediately became aware of the purpose of this chatter, asked him if he had any full powers in writing; if he was authorised by his government to enter into negotiations on this matter. On his negative answer His Majesty told him that He had no overtures or proposals to make to France, that He only asked her to be recognised as King of Naples, a thing she could not refuse, in conformity with the treaty concluded with Austria; that He hoped that the tranquillity of the continent would not be disturbed, but that, if unfortunately the war was rekindled, the course of his policy and his views would be entirely in conformity with those of Austria, his ally; that He and his army were at the disposal of this friendly power, and that united with it he was responsible for the tranquillity of Italy; that He nourished no other desire than to remain quiet possessor of his Kingdom and to work for the happiness of his subjects etc.

General Boulnois, seeing that he could not lead the King on this line to some false steps which would compromise him with respect to his Allies, set up his batteries in the opposite direction and said to the King that the principal goal of his voyage to Naples was the business of Marshals Macdonald and Oudinot which relates to the donations which they have in this Kingdom. This matter gave him occasion to speak of the discontent which reigned in France, of the spirit which animated the Marshals General and the French army in general; that Louis XVIII would support himself with difficulty on the throne; that the King possessed the confidence of the French army; that He led it so often to victory that his will and his person could bring about great changes in France; that He could count on being supported by the whole army and a large part of the nation; and many other similar statements, in opposition to what he had just said at the beginning.

The King treated this gentleman as he deserved, and made it clear to him that He was not the dupe of the schemes which were being set up to lose Him. This General, who stopped for a few days in Genoa, then in Ancona, and travelled through part of the Kingdom of Naples, is still here. As he has spent a fairly long time with the French army in this Kingdom, he has a lot of knowledge and is trying to gather information on what relates to the internal position of this country. I suppose that the government will not allow him a long stay in this Capital.

I have the honour of sending herewith to Your Highness the Moniteur de Naples, which contains the royal decree on the endowments made by Napoleon in this Kingdom, motivated by the order of 18 September published in France.

May Your Highness accept the assurances of my highest consideration.

It is interesting how Louis XVIII, having barely been properly seated on the throne, was already preoccupied with the fate of his distant Neapolitan relatives.

The next letter Helfert offers in his book already is from after the Congress of Vienna had been opened (do we need another timeline for this period?).

Metternich to Mier (concept). Vienna on November 6, 1814.

The Duke of Campo-Chiaro sends today General Filangieri as a courier to Naples, and I take advantage of this occasion to send you the present dispatch.

The Duke's reports undoubtedly contain very detailed data on the present position of things in Vienna. There are very great objects occupying the powers gathered under the name of Congress; united by the intention of removing the difficulties which would arise from too complicated forms, the powers with objects of open discussion have taken the step of establishing direct negotiations, to which the presence of the sovereigns and of several heads of cabinet lend every facility.

France, together with the other branches of the Bourbon House, has up to now aimed at bringing the Neapolitan question into the arrangements of Europe in consequence of the treaty of Paris. Our cabinet has constantly resisted this move, basing itself on the text of its treaties with the Court of Naples, and on the principle that it cannot question the existence of an independent power whose fate is in no way linked to that of the dynasty which has been expelled from the throne of France.

Oops. Sorry, Caroline. Seems Metternich just erased your name from the Bonaparte family tree.

I beg you, Count, to invite the Duke of Gallo to bring you up to date on the details which Monsieur de Campo-Chiaro is bound to send him of the discussions that have so far taken place on these important subjects. They will prove to the Court of Naples the constancy of the course of His Imperial Majesty in accordance with the principles which have always guided his cabinet. The Emperor has never violated the faith of treaties and he never will.

Uhm. Can I please quote Archduke Charles here? »Of course I have no problems breaking a treaty...«

The more His Majesty should be reassured about the impossibility of her being exposed to an attack from the coast or on the land, the more it would be desirable that He should not, by extraordinary measures, reawaken the fear in Italy about chimerical dangers. Complications are often created by wishing to forestall them in too anxious a manner. The attitude of the King, the only one in conformity with his true interests, must be that of calm. He is at home, his army is fine, he has between him and France all the Austrian forces; let him come to an agreement with the only immediate neighbour, let him follow the indications which must also have been given to him by the Duke of Campo-Chiaro, and let him put himself in the position of a power which does not seek quarrel with any other, but which would repel any attack. The only possible one being on the side of the sea, any demonstration on the opposite side is not only useless, but it is harmful to his interests, in that it furnishes pretexts to the malicious to slander the intentions of the King, and gratuitous grounds for supposition to the opposite party, that the Court of Naples is not entirely confident of the intentions of Austria.

These considerations, which arise from the very nature of things, may be brought to the King's attention by you, as having come directly from me. You will add the assurance that, if ever the rest of Italy were to be threatened (which there is no appearance of) by an enemy outside, or by parties within its bosom, His Imperial Majesty would not only count on the support of His Majesty in the same cause, but that He would be the first to call upon the support of the King.

The Duke of Campo-Chiaro finds himself placed as a Minister in Congress in the same attitude as are those of all the other powers. I congratulate myself on having been able to put aside all the questions which might have complicated his position by isolating him, it would in no case have been entirely so, for the existence of the Grand Duke of Tuscany is no less contested by the Spanish Court than that of the King of Naples.

Receive etc.

I guess what Metternich is trying to say here is: Mier – for the love of god, make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid!

[secret-engima]

Last one! - the future’s blurry (but the past is a trap)

Time-Travel fic!!!!! Hmmmm- what fandom what fandom so many lovely choices....

FFXV. Because that’s my mood right now (as ever).

COR.

Cor Time-Travel fic. Cor who lives to see the end of the Long Night, Cor who HOPES and dreams of helping Noctis rebuild the kingdom after he restores the dawn, Cor who is Noctis’s godfather, Cor who PROMISED Regis the first time he held the tiny sleeping infant that is now a brave and wise king that he would PROTECT Regis’s son-.

Cor who stumbles into the throne room to see three brothers sobbing over the lifeless body of their fourth and king.

And Cor ... Cor breaks. He hides in some random, rundown apartment in the empty city and drinks and drinks-

“So this is how you’re going to accept fate? By drowning yourself in a bottle?” Scorns a voice he’s only heard one time in his life but still sends him scrambling for his sword. He whirls, heart in his mouth, blade in hand and sees not a towering suit of armor with glittering eyes, but a ghostly version of a fire-eyed twenty-something adult. A towering man of nearly seven feet, board shouldered and scarred on one side of his face, dark brown hair and piercing amber eyes that mark the Amicitia line, “I had hoped for better.”

“Gilgamesh,” Cor rasps and wonders if he’s lost his mind in his grief, “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” says the man with a sneer, “I should be moving on to the afterlife. I have been freed from my prison after all. The Prophecy is fulfilled.”

“Then why haven’t you?”

A pause, and the sneer, the confidence, fades away and leaves behind someone very tired and wrung out, “Because I have regrets, and you are the only one still alive for me to speak of them to. The Last Shield will not listen, he is lost in his grief and surrounded by the living. You are alone and you are open to my voice.”

Cor doesn’t like the sound of that at all, “You are not allowed to possess me.”

Gilgamesh laughs, short and sharp but oddly genuine, more animated than he ever was as a murderous suit of armor, “No. I have no desire for that.” Burning gold eyes lock with his, “I wanted to know if you still meant what you said that day.”

It takes Cor a minute to remember. Even if he knows what “that day” Gilgamesh means, it was years ago and he was an idiot at the time. Then Cor remembers, and his already broken mood sours, “I did. For whatever good it did. I’ve failed. They’re dead. Both of them.” Cor laughs and the sound is poison even to his own ears, “You were right. I am no Shield.”

“No. You are a Sword,” Gilgamesh corrects, “and you should have been treated as such. Instead you were sheltered and lied to, and those lies dulled your edge until you were useless to stop the death of those you cherished.”

Cor throws the bottle at the ghost’s head, listens to the shatter of glass as the ghost lets it phase right through him without a blink, “What do you want?” He roars at the ghost, fragments of his wild temper from his youth coming back to his bones.

“What my brother’s dear Shield is trying to say,” purrs another ghost that Cor hates even more, who also doesn’t blink when Cor draws his blade and tries to behead him, “is that we both feel terribly guilty. More than that, the rest of those who once were in the Ring feel guilty, and angry. We’ve also got a very spiteful and a very remorseful Astral respectively on our side in the matter, now all we need is a living human member of the conspiracy.” Ardyn Lucis Caelum, blue eyed and purified and just as dangerously mischievous as ever, grins at Cor as the human forms of Shiva and Ifrit manifest in his apartment, alongside far too many royal ghosts for Cor’s comfort (he firmly does not look at the ghost of Regis, sagging tiredly in a corner, the only one he recognizes other than Mors now that they are all human looking rather than giant statues with face masks).

“So,” The ghost of Ardyn purrs with a rueful smile, “what do you say to saving the world and your precious kings in one fell swoop and maybe spiting the Draconian along the way?”

And it’s a stupid idea. Cor probably isn’t even seeing any of this. He’s probably lying in the apartment, dying of alcohol poisoning and grief right now, hallucinating all of this as he goes. But if he isn’t.

If he isn’t...

“What do you need me to do?”

Their plan is simple on their end, and painful on Cor’s. They grab him and throw him back through time, drag him with them as one by one they use up the last of their magic and finally vanish, because for all Cor calls them ghosts, they are not. Living souls do not linger after they die, but memories can. Memories given shape and form by magic, and when that magic was used up and given away, the memories are shattered, turned back into the formless nothing they really were.

They carve open Cor’s being and pour their magic into it, Gilgamesh at the fore, leading the way through the howling abyss while each king and queen carves Cor open a little more and pours in the magic keeping him alive and sane as he plummets through time. Regis’s touch lingers longer than the others, a breath of apology on his brow before that memory too, shatters and falls away.

Mors’ fingers wrap around his wrist and Cor struggles for the first time as his blood burns under the king’s touch in a way the others had not, “Hold still,” snarls the man coolly, “I do this as a favor for my son and grandson alone. Hold still and let me work or you will die the moment you reach our destination.” Cor stills and his blood burns until Mors too shatters.

Then it is only Gilgamesh, Cor ... and Ardyn.

“Free me,” he whispers as he presses something into Cor’s hands (or maybe into Cor’s soul, it’s hard to tell where reality ended and magic began in this place), “Find my past self and free me, then give me this.” A chuckle, “Let’s see the Empire grow so strong without it’s Accursed to feed from.”

“What about Prompto?” Cor asks desperately, because he is here to save those he cares about, not condemn the man who was like a son to him to nonexistence.

“Have a little faith,” laughs the former Chancellor, “a King needs his Heart, and Noctis will have his. Now,” hands on his shoulders, a final yank from Gilgamesh, “Go.”

Cor wakes up.

He promptly rolls over and vomits onto the stone.

Gilgamesh, a towering suit of armor once more, watches him gasp and wheeze and shake under the too-sharp sensation of magic living in his veins and reality existing again after so much time falling through time and void without comment. When Cor is done and has staggered upright, Gilgamesh hands him a sword.

Cor leaves the Tempering Grounds unbothered by the things that lurk there and makes straight for the Rock of Ravatogh. He gains the waiting Infernian’s Blessing, then collapses in a caravan for the night after several days and nights spent walking without pause and sleeping on cold Havens without so much as a blanket.

After waking up and showering, he spends a good twenty minutes the next day cursing at a mirror.

He’s fifteen again. He’s fifteen years old when in the original timeline he would have been six (is six, somewhere out there the original Cor Leonis still lives and grows, unaware of an altered future counterpart).

He’s also not Cor anymore. His eyes are the same, icy blue and angry, his face shape is very similar-. His hair is not. His hair is black and thick and wavy, and under his skin, magic coils, deep and effortless and his, not a gift from another.

Those blasted ghosts turned him into a Lucis Caelum.

He thinks of Mors’ cold fingers on his wrist and burning in his blood, Mors’ angry demand he stay still if he wanted to “survive the destination” and swears louder.

Then he picks up his sword and disappears into the wilderness again. Let Shiva come find him. She had a talent for finding Lucis Caelums anyway.

She finds him in the Quay, as Cor steals a boat to make for Angelgard, she Blesses him and disappears, and in her wake is a winter mist that shields Cor’s journey to the isle from prying eyes.

He cracks open the prison with the magic he now has in excess, falters at the sight before him.

Ardyn looks a lot less like evil incarnate and more like a shivering, frightened, half-starved cat this way.

Also who hung up their prisoners on MEATHOOKS like some kind of slasher from a horror film?

Overdramatic Lucis Caelums, that’s who.

Cor hauls Ardyn down from his chains and carries the weak, disorientated Accursed outside. He can hear Ramuh stirring in the clouds as he takes the nameless Thing that Ardyn of the future gave him (magic, pure magic, an orb of it as bright as gold and the dawn) and crushes it against this Ardyn’s chest like he would a potion.

He sidesteps the black bile Ardyn heaves up like a drowning man ejecting water from his lungs, writhing and whimpering on the stone as Scourge smoke recoils off his body like it’s trying to escape, only to be burned clear by golden magic. Well. That was convenient. Pity he doesn’t have enough of those to cure the whole planet.

Ardyn stays silent, dazed and wide-eyed as Cor hauls him back to the mainland, steals some proper clothes and then bundles him in a caravan for the night. The man out of time flinches at every modern amenity, stares at the soup Cor roughly puts in front of him with confused eyes. Finally, tentatively, as if afraid of being struck (and that shouldn’t make Cor angry, it shouldn’t, this man killed both Cor’s kings and threw the world into darkness. He deserved whatever fear he felt, yet looking at him now Cor can feel nothing but pity and anger on the man’s behalf) he speaks, “Who ... who are you? You ... you healed me. I ... do not understand.”

And Cor pauses, because he ... isn’t Cor now is he? There is already a young Cor Leonis out there somewhere, and no one can know that Cor is one and the same person as that youth.

In the end he shrugs, “I don’t have a name.”

“...What?”

“I don’t have a name. I gave it up. It was the price for healing you.”

“Then why,” Ardyn asks incredulously, “did you heal me? I am a stranger to you, a monster.”

Cor scoffed. The Chancellor of his time was a monster. This man? This man was about as monstrous as a starving kitten, “Not anymore you’re not, so stop that.” At the sight of Ardyn’s frown, Cor rolls his eyes and says gruffly, “If it bothers you so much, give me a new one.”

Ardyn gapes, “You ... want me to name you. Just like that.”

“Is that a problem?”

The redhead stays speechless for a while and Cor busies himself polishing his sword and ignoring the fact that he’s now distantly RELATED to this man (and also, if he doesn’t miss his timeline, OLDER than Regis by several years. Thanks a lot Kings of Yore).

“Glaucus.” Cor twitched and looked up sharply, Ardyn shrank in his seat a little, “You don’t like it?”

It sounds too much like Glauca. But he couldn’t say that, and it was better than lots of other names Ardyn could have come up with. Even if he had no idea where Ardyn had come up with that name. Cor forced his shoulders to relax and went back to caring for his blade, “Do as you please.”

“Glaucus,” repeated Ardyn softly and Cor- Glaucus, resigned himself to having a name very similar to that of a traitor and imperial experiment.

Kind of fitting, considering the company he was keeping.

Glaucus set his sword aside and gestured toward the bed, “If you’re done eating, go get some proper sleep. We’ll be leaving once you wake up.”

“Where will we be going?”

Glaucus smirked and knew it was not a nice expression, “A place called the Tempering Grounds. There’s someone who owes you an apology.”

(anyway hi yes I have a new AU to keep. In it “Glaucus” is now an LC, specifically and according to blood test MORS’ kid and he’s about 4 years older than Regis. I shall expand on this new AU another time. Tagging @sparklecryptid @hamelin-born @a-world-in-grey @ean-sovukau @ertrunkenerwassergeist behold my newest insanity).

[firewoodfigs]

letters to a young poet 

Summary: Riza Hawkeye, a young, aspiring poet, exchanges letters with her fiancé, Roy Mustang during his time in the military academy. He attempts to write her poems and prose about life and love, and occasionally sends her presents to remind her of him. Like his boxers.

read on ao3  

(a/n: (i) title is taken from Rilke's book. (ii) tw: the timeline of this is largely based on yet another man's battlefield, so there are brief mentions of racism here. (iii) I recommend reading on ao3 instead because... formatting issues, again xD (iv) original poetry at the end)

for @royaiweek 2020 - thank you to the lovely mods for organising!! 💖 

~x~

“Promise you’ll write to me when I’m away?”

“Of course, Roy,” Riza drawls idly as she adjusts his coat and ensures that his tie is neatly in place.

“Thank you. I’m going to miss you terribly, you know,” he says, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead before stretching his arms out invitingly. Smiling, she leans in and allows herself to be crushed to his chest in a warm, firm embrace.

God, I’m really going to miss her, he thinks, as he inhales her scent - a lovely mix of gunpowder and peonies and old books - and incarcerates it in his memory.

Roy steps back to admire her pretty countenance properly. Pride and admiration swells in his heart, and he can't help but run his fingers gently through her flaxen tresses once more before resting them on her lips.  

“Let me be your muse,” Roy declares with a triumphant grin, pressing a hand to his heart with a melodramatic flourish that earns an amused eye roll from his fiancée. “For parting is such sweet sorrow, and -“

“Shut up.” She pulls him by his tie to kiss him roughly, before flashing a wicked grin and kicking him out of the door. “Get going, you lovesick, histrionic fool.”

Riza throws his belongings out and slams the door as he stares at the wood longingly with an endearing pout.

~x~

June 8th

Dear Riza,

How doth your literary endeavours come along? I hope all is well with thee. Whenever I close my eyes, I see you Like a midsummer’s night dream, exquisite And when I open my eyes to sunlight I cannot wait to see you once again.

All my love, Roy.

~x~

June 12th

Roy,

Stop trying to imitate Shakespeare and force all your sentences into iambic pentameters. It makes me shudder - in disgust, not delight, lest you misconstrue what I’m saying.

Anyway, my literary endeavours are coming along fine. I’ve been spending my time reading some of the books you got me for my birthday, and for someone who writes so incorrigibly you sure do have impeccable taste. All is well on my end. What about you? How are you adjusting to the academy?

Thanks for the pressed flowers that you sent over, by the way. They’re surprisingly lovely, though I’m sure all credit goes to Vanessa’s guidance.

I also enclosed a scarf that I personally knitted for you in case it gets cold at night. Because you have an uncanny tendency to misplace your things, I embroidered a few water droplets in blue at the bottom for clearer identification (if you lose it I’m never making you anything ever again, this took me days to complete).

Hopefully, they serve as a reminder to you that you’re useless in the rain as well, so that you’ll refrain from doing anything reckless or stupid in my absence.

All my love, Riza.

~x~

Roy tears the package open with all the enthusiasm of a child opening his presents on Christmas morning the instant it lands in his hands. His eyes light up appreciatively at the lovely scarf, laughing at the tiny water droplets at the bottom that she’d added as a personal touch.

When he reads her letter and realises its intended meaning, though, an indignant frown makes its way to his handsome features.

Nevertheless, he dons it on immediately, relishing in the warm comfort and how it smelt like her, like flowers blooming in spring (even if his fiancée didn’t appreciate his poetic attempts, he very much liked to believe he was capable of using a simile properly).

June 16th

Dear Riza,

Thank you for the lovely gift, although your harsh words wound me terribly. Nevertheless, I understand that underneath your acerbic tongue lies a tender heart full of love, and I am a lucky man to be the sole recipient of it. I’m glad you liked the flowers. One day I’ll buy you a carful of them, I promise.

Things are going fine here. I’m adjusting well to the ridiculous sleep schedule (you’re the only person I know who willingly wakes up at seven in the morning daily), and with the rigorous physical training we have to endure I believe you’ll have a glorious set of washboard abs to admire the next time you see me.

I must say, though, the food here is pretty bad. Spinach quiche is pretty much the only edible thing, but this man - I think his name was Huggles or something. Sorry, Hughes - had the audacity to take the last piece of quiche right under my nose.

(Per your commands, though, I refrained from trying anything stupid.)

What’s even worse is the racial prejudice. The other day I saw an Ishvalan getting bullied by a trio of ugly men, but they left before I realised what was really happening… So I helped him out after that. I can’t bear it, to this day - they picked on him just because of his skin colour, for goodness sake! It was completely unwarranted.  

It’s only been a week but I already miss you terribly. Can’t wait till I see you again.

All my love, which extends from one end of Amestris to Xing, Roy.

~x~

June 21st

Dear Roy,

Sure, keep deluding yourself however you like if it makes you happy. You’re not the only recipient, by the way - I made a cute little scarf for Hayate, too, who has replaced your ‘snuggling spot’ in my bed, as you like to call it. Between the both of you I sometimes can’t tell who smells worse.

Also, don’t be ridiculous - what would I even do with a carful of flowers?

I’m glad to hear that things are fine on your end. Waking up at seven is a wonderful thing, especially when you get to see the sunrise, no? I look forward to seeing those abs, though with your drinking habits I’m sure you’ll probably end up with a beer belly in the foreseeable future. Don’t drink too much.

I’m sorry to hear about the quiche. I’ll make you one when you’re back. If it makes you feel better, though, I’ve sent some cookies I made the other day to you as well. Express delivery, in case they go bad.

Also, even if you haven’t already punched the Hughes guy I can already envision you slamming your tray down on the table, turning around to scowl at him like a petulant child and competing with him in just about everything you do.

All I will say is this: relax, it’s just a bloody quiche.

Good to know that you did that! The Ishvalans most certainly don’t deserve such treatment. No one does, of course, but it’s frustrating that certain ethnicities still continue to be singled out and ostracised in Amestris, despite the state’s proclamation that it’s a cosmopolitan society accepting of different cultures and whatnot… Until then, we have to stand with them, stand up for what’s right, and -- oh, I don’t mean to ramble. Just know that I’m proud of you, Roy. Keep at it.  

If it does make you feel better I suppose a tiny part of me does miss you too. Just the slightest.

All my love, Riza (not interested in your silly competitions) Hawkeye.

~x~

Roy blanched at the bag of cookies she’d sent him and the thought of Riza’s quiche. Cooking had never been her strongest suit, and while she was talented in many areas somehow all of that seemed to go away every time she entered a kitchen.

Nevertheless, it was Riza who’d painstakingly made them, and because he appreciates his fiancée’s efforts he vows to eat every single one of them even in her absence.

He bites down on a cookie apprehensively, and is pleasantly surprised to discover that it’s edible. It bears emphasising that this is an incredible feat for Riza Hawkeye - considering how she’d managed to almost burn the entire kitchen down when she tried to make a simple pasta dish for his birthday.

(Fortunately, they’d managed to extinguish it, but afterwards Roy mentally designated himself as head chef for the rest of their lives.)

Deeply touched by the gesture, he wraps one of his shirts to send back as a gift. The thought of her dressed in his apparel has him grinning like the lovesick, histrionic fool that Riza said he was.

June 26th 

Dear Riza,

Don’t say that, I definitely smell better than Hayate. And I know for a fact that you love me, although maybe not as much as I love you -- my love for you knows no territorial boundaries.

You could curate your own gardens with a carful of flowers, I suppose. And we could… Well, smell the flowers and procrastinate together?

It is - the sunlight reminds me of you, and I appreciate that. A lot. I also haven’t been drinking, so don’t worry - these glorious abs are definitely en route to you.

Thank you for the cookies - they were delicious, and I look forward to your quiche when I return. Baby steps, alright? I hope the kitchen will still be intact when I come home.

… It’s sometimes creepy how well you know me… But I think you’ll be pleased to at least know that I became friends with Hughes, after we confronted said trio.

We also made a new friend today - Heathcliff! He’s the Ishvalan I told you about in my last letter. He told us he joined the military because he wanted to change and empower the people’s perceptions of Ishval and its culture from a point of leadership. I think that’s an admirable dream - one that I’d like to assist in, too. He’s been a great friend, and I can’t stand to see him be the recipient of so many pejorative remarks. It’s completely unjustified, and you’re absolutely right on that point.

I take that as an admission that you miss me ‘most ardently’ - have you been writing poems about me in my absence?  

On that note, you’ll be pleased to know that I have a break on the 8th of July for a couple of days. Want to do something fun? I know you’ve been dying to check out that shooting range, and I’ve been training in the academy for my victory.

All my love, kisses and glorious abs, Roy

P.S. I’ve also enclosed a token of my own affection herein for you - hopefully it reminds you of me whenever you wear it.

~x~

Riza stared confusedly at the oddly-shaped lump that surfaced after she opened the package. After reading his letter she was expecting one of his shirts, maybe one of his button-downs that would’ve been perfect as an oversized sleeping top on her, but she certainly wasn’t expecting his…

Boxers.

His boxers, of all things. She holds it up to scrutinise it in its full glory, and it’s peppered with little puppies - his favorite pair.

To say Riza is surprised is an understatement. She’s not quite sure why he’d sent her his boxers or how she’s supposed to even wear it, but she chucks it aside in the laundry for him to retrieve it when he returns.

July the 8th. The date's circled in bold, bright red on her calendar.  

She’d never admit this out loud to any living person, not even her best friend Rebecca. The only person who’d heard her let out an almost-giggle (almost, because Riza Hawkeye did not do giggles) in excitement was Hayate. Because God, did she miss him terribly, and true to his predictions he’d been her muse for quite a number of her recent poetic endeavours.

July 3rd

Dear Roy,

Whatever, you insane idiot. I miss you and I love you too. That is all.

For the record, the kitchen is still intact, and will continue to be so. My cooking skills aren’t that bad.  

That’s great to hear. You’re an honorable and intelligent (this is questionable) man, Roy, and I would definitely like to see that kind of change happening. I hope Heathcliff is well, too - send him my regards.

… I refuse to lower myself to drawing smiley faces on my letters, but you’ll see one on July the 8th in person.

And yes, it would be nice to check out that shooting range, though let’s be real - we both know you can’t defeat me no matter how hard you try. I do live up to my namesake, after all.

All my love, Riza

P.S I don’t know if it was intentional, but I never knew you had a thing for me wearing your boxers. Unfortunately, they are way too loose for me and I won’t be wearing them any time soon. Your underwear and I eagerly await your return.

~x~

The 8th of July finally comes around. Everyone in the academy is astonished at just how fast Roy Mustang is capable of running. He might’ve been the golden boy, and he generally outran most, if not all, of them during their training sessions, but now he looked like his pants were on fire as he made a dash for the gate and boarded the first train in a sweaty mess.

Roy continues running like a madman after alighting the train, desperate to reach their home as soon as possible to explain his predicament. He certainly hadn’t intended to send his underwear over, and was sure that one of the other men must have done so as a practical joke on him.

(Fortunately for the culprit, Roy didn’t manage to identify who he was, but there would certainly be hell to pay when he did so.)

As if on cue, Riza opens the door with a beatific smile adorning her features. “I can hear you panting all the way from the other end of Amestris, Roy.”

He chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. “Well, I’m excited to see you, for starters. And, uh…”

“You want your underwear back?”

“Yes, of course I do.” He pants, struggling to catch his breath while trying to formulate a coherent explanation. “Look, I swear it wasn’t deliberate - I intended to send you one of my shirts, and I definitely don’t have a thing for you wearing my boxers. I don’t know which idiot in the academy substituted my shirt for my underwear to sabotage -” She lets out a laugh. It's loud, unrestrained. Roy thinks it’s the most beautiful sound he’s heard in a month. “You really are hopeless, Roy. It’s fine. Defeat me at the shooting range, and you can have it back tonight.”

~x~

In the end, his favorite pair of boxers sits at the bottom of the laundry for the rest of the day, because Riza Hawkeye is an indomitable force of nature at the shooting range.

She does, however, have a poem written for him, and he’s so enraptured by it that he forgets all about the underwear fiasco. “I’m back home, ma chérie,” he whispers as he runs his fingers down the groove of her spine, as if he’s tracing constellations on the canvas of her back while they lay together on satin, hearts thrumming in harmony. “I’d like to keep holding you close, too -” he recites, but he’s quickly interrupted by her.

“You sound best when you don’t speak, Roy,” and with that Riza silences him with a fiery kiss that rouses an overwhelming conflagration in him.

One that can only be put out by her.

Roy grins delightfully into the kiss, all too willing to oblige. Her lips are an inviting chamber of unbridled affection and unsatisfied desire, and he finds himself exploring her eagerly, fingers tracing her sharp cheekbones in reverent adoration.

Riza responds in kind, trailing a hand down his shirt and notes, somewhat gleefully, that he has indeed returned with said glorious abs. She makes a move to untuck his shirt, humming to herself in amusement as she feels his bare stomach quiver beneath her curious palm.

He’s quick to make a comeback, though. Unwilling to be teased by her Roy draws her deeper into the kiss - she’s utterly incredible, he thinks, as he cards his fingers through her flaxen tresses - and he tastes traces of eggs and pastries and -

- and spinach?

“You made spinach quiche?” Roy asks curiously, breaking away from the kiss for the briefest of moments.

“What on earth,” she huffs. “Way to ruin the moment, Roy.” A scarlet blush makes its way to her cheeks - equal parts breathlessness from the vigour with which he kisses her, and embarrassment at being found out.

He laughs, and quotes yet another line teasingly. “Didn’t you say you’ll even listen to my silly moonshine?”

Riza scowls. “I do regret writing that now. Perhaps I will -”

“No, no, please continue writing more,” Roy pleads in earnest, and before she can make a decision he’ll live to regret he kisses her again with such an ardent love, such a fervent passion that it completely derails her train of thought.

The quiche rests in the oven, burnt and forgotten.

~x~ 

adieu, mon chéri. may you fare well. in my heart, you will always dwell. (won’t you please come home soon, or will it only be after june?)

you write to me, letters (hidden within are flowers) to abate my need for you. i knit scarves in a room candlelit;

holding a heavy weight within from empty spaces on satin. i’d like to hold you close again -- hurry, love, won’t you run to the train?

i’ll let you place your weight on mine oh, i’ll even listen to your silly moonshine (come home to me, darling my soul is aching in longing)

~x~ 

*moonshine: foolish talk or ideas.

[caeloservare]

James’ backstory

// High time I wrote down some headcanons and sort of a timeline. It has been present in my writing for a while, so I gotta finally get it officially here. Italics are more verse/partner dependent parts. I’m skipping ships. Edited and slightly updated in July 2023.

James was the only son in the family of accountants, living safe and boring life of insignifant higher class people. His father was a strict, demanding and closed off man, his mother much warmer and rather calm, delicate woman. They made a regular family with the highlights and with the problems, nothing out of the ordinary. James didn’t exactly rebel against parents, but from the very young age he knew he didn’t want to spend his life in books filled with numbers. He wanted to make a difference in the world, make it a better place. So he did enroll early into the Atlas Academy as a very talented kid, making up with hard work for all his other lacks. He didn’t make many friends, if any, as his younger age and massive ambition made him rather distanced from other kids. He wasn’t the leader of his team, which combined with his ambitions and good strategy assessments, didn’t help him in building relationships. The team went on rather well, despite him being a horrible case of an individualist. Took part in two Vytal festivals, one loosing with little James getting knocked out, the second he managed to lead his team to victory.

Then he joined the military, despite his parents open disapproval. He was supposed to run the family business, not choose dangerous and uncertain path of career. Still pretty young of age, James kept climbing ranks with the same determination he has towards everything else he does. His father died of age somewhere during this period, still mad about his son’s choices, but only seemingly. He left James a lengthy letter explaining that he was in fact proud, but worried sick. Mother showed more understanding for James’ decisions, but sadly she followed her husband a few years later, when James managed to work his way up to be the Colonel. He gained a few friends along the way. At some point he became an obvious choice for the next General and this was the time he got invited into the Inner Circle (but that’s down to being discussed).

Once it was almost certain that he was the one to take the chair after current General’s retirement, he pulled a very dangerous stunt on the field mission, pushing assigned teammate (Clover, unless the mun writing Cloves wouldn’t like that) out of Teryx jaws. These, once closed, ripped his entire arm off. Miraculously James managed to pull the trigger same time and the fire dust exploded inside Grimm’s jaw, nearly killing them both. (I die over the person being Clover and his luck saving James’ dumb ass from dying there on the snow.) Reporters and general public expected him to never fully recover and give up the career, so he proved them all wrong and became the new General as soon as he could stand again. The recovery was long and annoying, but James didn’t have any doubts nor regrets about this decision. He’d do that again without hesitation.

Few years into the office, he became also the Headmaster, taking second seat in the Council and directly taking under his wings the secret vault with relic. This decision was discussed with Ozpin, if not suggested or encouraged by him.

Ever since Academy times, he spent less and less time in the family house, which he owns to this day, but visits very occasionally, when he needs to retreat to a place no one is going to look for him in. Usually he hires someone else to take care of it. The house looks bit like a museum, thanks to being quite old and little used since his parents passed away. There’s many family mementos, but useless wealth trinkets like sculptures, paintings etc. gets given away from time to time, as James hates snobistic tastes of Atlesian nobility and gladly gets some “trash” out of his house. 

After becoming the General, most of the time he lives in the minimalistic apartment in the Academy. It’s simple, comfortale and well equipped - he doesn’t need much to live and it’s much easier to dedicate his life to his work, when he lives in the same building where his office is.

[yeet-man]

One’s Rebirth (Chapter 5)

A/N: Man, I be seeing Nerris drawing stuff for people and I’m like “If anyone ever wants to draw a scene from my trash ass fanfic that would be the best thing ever.” And tbh I hope no one ever offers to since I don’t want them to waste their talent on something dumb. Anyway, enjoy more angst and I probably won’t upload chapter 6 till chapter 7 is done so uh ye. 

Another day, another night J’me didn’t get any sleep. He spent the entire night wanting to throw up since he looked at the photos before he went to bed. Luckily it was Friday, so all the boy had to do was get through school then Kairo’s funeral tomorrow.

He slowly went through his morning routine trying his best not to throw up. It took a little longer than usual, but he did start a bit earlier than normal. Once that was done he flipped the photos over and placed them in his bag. 

He decided to leave the test tube on his nightstand till he actually needed to test the sample. He let out a breath of air and stood up properly. “Okay… let's see if this works.” J’me closed his eyes and placed his right hand on the nightstand.

He started sending chakra towards his palm, though under the flesh of it. Once the chakra reached his palm, the boy gently applied pressure on the table. After a couple moments J’me lifted up his hand to reveal his Flying Falcon signature. The signature was a circle with kanji in the middle of it surrounded by Japanese coding, the kanji was ‘Falcon’. 

Once the signature was on the desk, J’me put on his U.A attire, slinged his bag over his back and left the house. His morning routine to the train station was nothing out of the ordinary, it was the same as usual. When the boy got onto the train, he sat down and relaxed his whole body. The entirety of his body was tense for basically no reason. 

J’me tried his best to relax but couldn’t no matter what he did. He let out a small breath of air and stood up. The boy placed his hands in his pockets and looked out the words of the train. The scenery was gorgeous, cherry blossom after cherry blossom. It truly felt like J’me was in Japan, even if it was in an anime.

The scenery would soon be over as the train came to a stop a few minutes later. The boy slowly got off the train and began to make his way to U.A Academy. As J’me went along his route to the school, his best bud Kirishima joined him halfway through. 

“Hey, are you going to be okay today? Will you be able to tell everyone the truth?”

“I’m fine to say the least and, I don’t know. I want to tell everyone what happened, but I don’t think my body will allow me to. I need to make sure they know, so we can be careful… I just hope the timeline doesn’t get fucked because of this.” 

Kirishima was curious about the timeline actually, he wanted to know how much has changed since J’me and his friends had arrived. He thought about asking, but decided to wait till it was a good time to do so. “If you want, I can help you deliver the news. That is if you want me to help, but maybe not. After all, Ryan can help as well.”

J’me thought about it for a few seconds. He didn’t know if Kirishima should help or not. Besides, people would just question why he knew before anyone else. “No, I think me and Ryan can do it without any help. Thank you for the offer though.” The boy stopped in his tracks and gave Kirishima a slight bow before walking again.

 Kirishima watched the events unfold and teared up a little. “You are manly as heck J’me!” 

The boy chuckled and patted the red hair’s back. “You’re manly as well Kirishima.” He smiled a little and kept on walking.

Kirishima followed behind J’me as the tiny tears went away after a bit. Soon enough they got to U.A Academy. The two boys went up the small set of stairs before entering the building. 

Afterwards they started walking towards their class as J’me let out a small shaky breath. 

“You got this, I believe you’ll be able to tell everyone bro.” Kirishima spoke with confidence in his voice since he truly did believe in J’me.

“Thanks man, I’m glad you believe in me.” J’me showed a small smile, but quickly disappeared when he walked into the classroom. 

It seemed like all of the eyes were on him which kind of scared him. He slowly went to his seat as it felt like everyone was staring at him. He let out a small breath of air and tried his best to cool down.

The bell rang after what felt like hours, but was only a couple minutes. Mr. Aizawa walked into the class and looked at J’me. The boy nodded and looked over at Ryan, he simply glanced at the front and got up with his bag.

Ryan followed and got up as well, they both walked up to the front and J’me pulled the photos of Kairo’s dead body. 

The boy taped the photos on the board and stood in front of them before anyone could see them. “So, what we found yesterday was not what we expected at all. Upon getting close to where Kairo last was, we discovered something. We discovered his body, he was dead. Ryan and I assumed that he had been dead for almost 12 hours. Even if we wanted to save him we couldn’t since he had already passed.”

The mood has switched from one of tiredness to depression the moment J’me said Kairo was dead. Some people wanted to speak up and say something, but knew it wasn’t the time or place to do so.

Ryan felt bad for making J’me do all the speaking since him and Kairo were closer. “When we found him, he had suffered injuries all over his body. Kairo suffered cuts all over his body, broken ribs and his skull being cracked open. What caught our attention was 2 things, the first was that his cuts were in the shape of an ‘X’. Now the second thing is a bit more surprising, we found a blood trail nearby though it was too far for Kairo to travel with the injuries he had.”

It would be a lie if they weren’t nervous and depressed about the topic at hand. They did want to cry and not even speak, but the two needed to keep calm and relay the information as best as possible. 

J’me let out a breath of air and took over for the rest of it. “Like Ryan said, Kairo suffered many injuries sadly… What we are about to show might make you throw up. Please proceed with caution if you are going to look.” He stepped off to the side so everyone could see the photos. 

Mostly everyone stood up to get a better look at the board. Some did stay seated as they didn’t want to see Kairo or else they might throw up. After a few minutes the people who did look were depressed. It also made them angry to see someone do that to a student out of all people.

Some of the kids spoke up after staying silent for so long, they asked who could do something like this to Kairo.

“At this moment in time Ryan and I do not know who did it. We are going to work as hard as we can to figure out who did this.” J’me had a confident look on his face. They were going to find out who killed Kairo and take them down.

Mr. Aizawa listened to the whole conversation before stating his mind. "I'm afraid U.A might shut down because of this. If not, the best course of action to take is having hero's watching students at all times. No matter what happens a hero must not take eyes off of a student or else it may have more killed. I'll talk about this with the principal and see what I can do."

“Fuck, I was afraid this was going to happen… how long would U.A be shut down for if it turns out to be like that?” J’me couldn’t help but speak his mind on this topic.

“I’m not entirely sure, it may be for indefinitely or not. Like I said I don’t know how long the school will be shut down for.” 

J’me understood this and nodded his head slowly. All of the students were saddened to hear the news, the dream of becoming the hero they wanted to be would be crushed if U.A were to shut down. Everyone sat back down in their seats as J’me removed the photos off the board. Once they were off he sat down as well and let Aizawa take over.

“I don’t think it would be best to teach a class with the atmosphere the way it is currently. So, that’s why I’m deciding to give all of you the rest of the day off.” Mr. Aizawa spoke with a genuine tone in his voice. He didn’t want the kids to go on with school with what happened to Kairo.

The students just nodded, they felt weak to do anything. They all sat in silence for a minute before J’me stood up and started speaking.

“Um… Kairo’s funeral is tomorrow. I thought y’all should come, even if you didn’t know him that well. It’s in Tokyo’s graveyard, it starts at 2 in the afternoon. I guess I'll see y’all there.” He walked over to Mr. Aizawa and asked to speak with him before everyone got up and left. 

The two walked into the hallway before J’me disappeared for a second. He came back with the vial of blood they took from the area Kairo was killed in.

“We were able to get a sample of what could be Kairo’s killer. Take it and figure out whose blood it is Mr. Aizawa, I’m counting on you.”

Aizawa took the vial and looked over it before speaking. “I’ll see what I can do J’me. And thank you for all this information. I know this must be difficult for you and Ryan to handle, but stay strong okay?” 

J’me nodded his head, wanting to cry at this point. He held the tears in and said bye to Mr. Aizawa. Afterwards he teleported away with a blue lightning strike appearing once he was gone from sight. 

Everyone else in U.A stayed behind for a couple minutes. As the time passed slowly Kirishima stood up and looked at everyone in the room.

“Whoever did this to Kairo is going to pay! No one our age should lose their lives like that trying to become a hero!” Tears started to fall down his face as he shouted to everyone.

Ryan stood up as well and looked at Kirishima. “If someone was able to kill Kairo then it’s useless to go after them. He was in the top 3 of the strongest people in this classroom along with me and J’me. Let’s just do what we need to do to figure out who did it and leave it to the heros after.” Once he said what was on his mind, he started making his way to the door.

Kirishima didn’t want to believe it, he wanted to get revenge on the person who killed Kairo. “I will avenge Kairo with or without you!” The boy was determined to do even if he didn’t have Ryan helping. He would do it by himself if need be.

Ryan stopped in his tracks and glanced at Kishima. “If you die because you did something dumb, I’ll kill every villain in his world.” The boy then looked down at the ground and walked away to his home.

The students couldn’t do anything but watch the interaction between the two boys. Once it was over they grabbed their things and left. It had been a long day and they needed some time to process everything before the funeral tomorrow. 

Saturday arrived quicker than everyone expected. All of the students in class 1-A got dressed and began to make their way to the Tokyo graveyard. They shortly arrived a little before 2 and went to where they were supposed to go. J’me was the last to arrive out of all the students, he honestly thought Kairo was too strong to be killed by someone. He also wanted to invite Mei, but knew she would be busy with her gadgets to make it on time.

People took turns speaking about Kairo even if they didn’t know him as much as others knew Kairo. When it was Ryan’s turn, he stepped in front of his dead friend’s casket and let out a small breath of air.  

“Kairo... man... he was a great guy. Maybe a dick sometimes, but he was an overall nice guy. Now, I didn't know him for more than a year or two, but in that time I grew to be his friend. Infact he was basically like a brother to me... so he will definitely be missed…” Ryan held back any tears he had and went back to his spot once he got done speaking. 

After Ryan’s turn, J’me slowly walked up to Kairo’s casket. He looked at everyone that was at the funeral then at the casket. “I knew Kairo the most out of everyone here, I knew him for 8 years. He was one of the best friends I’ve ever had or even met. He was like a brother to me because of how much time we spent together. The man helped me out when no one else would… Kairo will be missed by everyone, even by those who didn’t know him well. Rest In Peace Kairo Fūro. May your soul rest in peace brother.” 

J’me walked back to his spot and watched as the casket was lowered into the ground. He could only watch and think about reviving him. He didn’t though, because Kairo would just smack the fuck out of J’me and die again. 

Once the casket was lowered into the ground, J’me looked at it before tossing something into the pit with Kairo’s casket. What he tossed was something special to Kairo, it was a pair of boxing gloves. The boy always loved to fight, most times for fun rather than anything. J’me didn’t know why his friend enjoyed fighting so much, he just did for some reason.

After everyone tossed roses and other things into the pit, people slowly started to fill it up with dirt while everyone watched. Memories of Kairo flashed through J’me’s head as he just stood there and watched the dirt fill up the pit. He hated this feeling that was going through his heart, he felt guilt like it was his fault. The boy also felt sadness and anger, all of these feelings didn’t mix well for J’me. 

The boy looked up into the sky and finally let the tears fall. He didn’t care who saw him cry, he had just been strong for too long and needed to let it all out. 

Kirishima walked up behind J’me and placed his hand on his friends' back. “I promise we are going to get revenge for Kairo. I’m not going to let any of my friends cry and not be able to do anything about it.” The red hair was also tearing up, he hated seeing his friends cry. That scene alone made Kirishima feel like he was weak and couldn’t do anything. 

J’me turned his head and looked at Kirishima and let out a shaky breath. “Kirishima… thank you for wanting to help me, but it’s useless. Whoever killed Kairo is too strong for us to handle, that’s why we need to let the heros handle it.” 

“I don’t care! I don’t care if whoever killed your friend is too powerful for us. If I promise something I will make it true no matter what! I hate it when I can’t do anything to help my friends, so please J’me...let me help you get revenge for Kairo.” Kirishima was in tears by the time he finished talking. 

J’me’s eyes widened at how much Kirishima wanted to help him. The boy turned his whole body to face his crying friend. “Kirishima… why do you have to be such a good friend to me? You don’t even know me that much and yet you’re still trying to help me no matter what I tell you.”

“Because I know that if I was going through the same thing, you would do exactly what I am doing right now.” The tears on Kirishima slowly started to fade as he smiled brightly at his friend. It was a sad smile, but one nonetheless. He pulled J’me into a hug and patted his friend. 

J’me was a little surprised by the hug but returned it. “Thank you Kirishima, I will do my best to find whoever killed Kairo, I put my life on that.” He pulled away after a second and wiped his tears, letting out another shaky breath as well. 

“You’re welcome J’me, and I’ll be here waiting for you when you call me to join the battle. I won’t let you down either and that’s another promise.” He gave his friend a real smile this time around. 

J’me smiled back slightly before walking away and over to Ryan. He stood in front of his 6 foot friend and looked up at him. “I don’t care what you say, but you’re helping me find who killed Kairo and helping me fight them. I am not going to let Kairo’s death go to waste like this.”

Ryan looked down at J’me and let out a small sigh, holding his tears in still. “What’s the point? Let’s say we do find the person who killed Kairo, if we fight them we are going to lose no matter what we do. Just accept the fact that we’re weak and can’t do anything against anyone.”

“No! I’m not going to accept that even if it is true. I am going to fight the person for Kairo’s sake, wouldn’t our friend want that anyways? For us to fight whoever killed him for fun? But this isn’t going to be for fun. We are going to take down who killed Kairo, I promise that on my life!” J’me was going to convince Ryan to help him, no matter the cost.

Ryan just looked at J’me for a few seconds. “Fine, I’ll help, but I get the finishing blow on the person who killed Kairo got it?” He didn't bother waiting for a response, he just wanted to go home and cry at this point. The boy left the funeral and went home to do so. 

J’me watched as his friend walked away, he was happy Ryan decided to help but at the same time he wasn’t. The bot let out a sigh by the time Ryan was gone. He was fixing to go home himself till Bakugo walked up to him.

“Just listen alright shit head. I’m sorry about your loss, I don’t know about the bond both of y’all had but yeah.”  He paused for a second wanting to throw up at these next words. “If… If you need my help don’t hesitate to ask… And don’t ask why I want to help.” Bakugo simply let out a ‘hpmh,’ crossed his arms, and walked away.

J’me chuckled at the way Bakugo acted, he sure did have a soft spot at times. Even when he’s acting like the biggest bitch in the world. J’me did feel a bit at ease after the explosion boy left though he was surprised Bakugo would say something like that. 

Soon enough yet another person walked up to him, this time it was Yao-Momo. She offered a hug to the boy since it looked like he needed one more than anything. J’me accepted it, pulling away after a couple seconds of silence from both of them.

“I am truly sorry about your loss J’me. I can only imagine how difficult this could be for you. If there is anything I can do to help let me know okay?” Momo’s voice was soothing to hear for some reason. It sounded like a mother’s which helped J’me feel a bit better after everything that’s happened recently.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. I can handle almost anything that comes to me.” J’me forced a small smile on his voice. He didn’t want people to worry about him, not just yet that is. 

“You know J’me, I can see through that forced smile. Even if we don’t know each other on a personal level, you are a classmate of mine after all.” Yao-Momo stated in her regular voice. She was right though, anyone and everyone could see through his forced smile.

“It’s that obvious isn’t it?” The boy let out a simple sigh and closed his eyes for a second. “To be honest, I hate when people worry about me. It kind of just puts more weight on more shoulders since I have to worry about my well being.”

Yao-Momo simply nods to his words. “Well, I hope you won’t hate it when someone worries about you one day. When you find the person who killed your friend, do your best to take them down okay? I believe you and Ryan are the only ones who can take that person down.”

“Yeah, hopefully…” His voice trailed off for a moment before he focused again. “Anyway, I know me and Ryan are going to take down whoever killed Kairo that’s for sure. I’ll always do my best when it comes to fighting. And thanks Momo, it makes me feel appreciated when people check up on me.”

Yao-Momo smiled gently and nodded once again. “I know you’ll do your best and you’re welcome J’me.” She gave the boy one more hug, telling him to be careful when they find the person who killed Kairo. 

J’me hugged her back and said he would try, no promises though. He let go after a couple seconds and smiled a little.

Yao-Momo chuckled at his response and said her goodbyes before leaving to talk with someone else. 

J’me let out a breath of air and left the funeral. He needed a plan to find Kairo’s murderer, for now all he could do was wait for Mr. Aizawa to test the blood sample they got from the crime scene. Time was of the essence in his eyes, he needed to find the killer as fast as he could.

By the time J’me left Kairo’s body was officially buried. Everyone left a couple minutes after the body was buried. May his soul rest within an angel's arms as he watches over Ryan and J’me from the skies above. No matter what happens in the future, they were going to get revenge for their friend.

[thelostnymphaeum]

“A man who really fights for justice must lead a private, not a public, life if he is to survive for even a short time.”

Entry: 006 // Literature // Title: Rizal Without the Overcoat Author: Ambeth R. Ocampo Year: 1990 (first publication)

_____

HOPELESS CRUSH

Even prior to entering my second year in college (when we have to take our mandatory Rizal course), I already have a “crush” on Rizal. If I’m not mistaken, I started to study about him for a contest that I was chosen to partake in when I was a college freshman. I was picked as a delegate for the annual National Rizal Youth Leadership Institute held in Baguio City, and I could still remember my most adored quote from Rizal, it was this:

“A life which is not dedicated to a great ideal is useless. It is a pebble lost in the field, not being part of an edifice.”

Growing up with a love for literature, I learned about Rizal’s talent and career as a writer, which fascinated me more than the fact that he was a doctor, sculptor, linguist and many more others that he was. I fell in love with his poetry and I truly believe that had I lived in the same timeline as him, I would have fallen head over heels for him. I am not even exaggerating. I would be helpless.

During this quarantine, a certain sweet friend of mine gifted me this book because she knew how much I adored Rizal and was burning my eyes by reading e-books (she also gave me my first manga, which was also about the life of Rizal – highly recommended). I credit her for the re-ignition of my love for the man, this book was able to show me the sides of Rizal that will never be talked about in classrooms, asked in examinations or written in textbooks.

FASCINATION, INFATUATION, ERUDITION

Being a Renaissance man who represented both the art and science of life, Rizal truly was salt to the earth. A huge chunk of my admiration for him was that he was a quintessential scholar. He studied every day about everything. He studied medicine, botany, interior design, art, agriculture and so much more. Somehow, a life like his is what I find ideal – the continuous pursuit of knowing. He loves his books dearly and was stingy about them – which made me realize that it’s not odd for me to be sensitive about my books. Haha. He was a bookworm and learned foreign languages to widen his education. He spoke at least five languages – Spanish, Tagalog, English, French and German. How will I be able to do that? If his sentiments weren’t so anti-clerical, he could have qualified to be the Pope with all the languages he knew. In this book, Guillermo Tolentino had a séance with the spirit of Rizal, and although we cannot prove that it truly was him – it certainly had his flavor.  

The book also talked about Rizal’s popularity and how it was more of a disadvantage rather than an advantage, because he never asked to be glorified. In my opinion, one of the most remarkable detriment of his colossal popularity is that the other heroes are overshadowed. Rarely do Filipinos know that Bonifacio strived to be literate on his own, learned English because of his job and even has a beautiful handwriting. The now well-known Heneral Luna studied pharmacy, chemistry and was an active writer during his time (I find his pen name in La Solidaridad utterly adorable: “Taga-ilog”; in comparison to Rizal’s “Laong Laan” or del Pilar’s “Plaridel” that seemed as if hard thoughts were given to lol). Imagine how many more of our heroes would be admired as polymaths because of their talents? If only we gave time to study and appreciate each of them.

SI ANDRÉS O SI JOSÉ?

For as long as I could remember, Rizal could never be brought up in a conversation without Bonifacio’s name getting dragged in. It seems that a lot of people think that Bonifacio deserves the title of pambansang bayani better than Rizal because he was the one who fought the fight with flesh and blood.

Obviously, my opinion would be biased since I have a crush on Rizal. All I can say is that: they fought the fight they knew how to fight. If Rizal did not write those novels, who else would? He was an ilustrado, and was one of the few who was brave enough to write about the politics of the Philippines under the Spaniards. It was a fight he was well-equipped to fight. It was the fight he was built and trained to fight. 

Another subject of dispute is that Rizal was not even well-versed in Tagalog (Filipino), he wrote the best in Spanish. Yet if you examine it closely, the irony is still present today: the book that I read was in English, the formal language in our country is English and this blog post that I’m writing is in English. Can we call him out on that without being hypocrites? The unfortunate truth is that this crevice remains open in our society. This colonial mentality still exists, just like how someone is labeled as “jologs” when she/he can speak better in Filipino than in English. 

On the other hand, did Bonifacio need to write those novels? No. He did not need to – because he lived out those struggles every single day of his life in the Philippines. He was a born warrior. He fought the battles. It was the fight he knew how to fight. It was the fight he was made and meant to fight. 

In my eyes, they had their own battles – both of which were within the grasp of their aptitude and proclivity.

THE TIMES OF TODAY

It’s such a shame that majority of the youth barely care for the Rizal course, often finding it taxing and tedious because it’s history. Admittedly, including me, know very little of our own national heroes and of our own history.

Filipinos admire the culture of other countries instead of our own. With K-pop, Hollywood or Anime, our (yes, I’m also a victim) eyes are set on looking on other countries - not on our own. It’s heartbreaking. For a third world country, economy is put first before arts, culture or sports. Our country has so much potential, as evident in the natural resources, creativity, culture, agriculture, tribes and so much more. If only these will be focused upon, our country will be unstoppable. I have no doubt. But we cannot work with fixing these ideals if the basic problems are still existent.

Yesterday, I watched “Heneral Luna”. Such a beautiful film (how I wish more historical Filipino films would be produced, rather than cheesy predictable ones that are made just because they make money). What I find the most disturbing is that centuries and fifteen presidents later, the same problem of Heneral Luna still exists. The country is still fighting within itself; with Filipinos still putting their own desires rather than of the country. I wonder what the La Solidaridad and Katipunan members would think of our country today.

[nazali-md]

Get to know my apprentice!

1. Name? Surname? Goes by Scilla. Surname not needed.

2. Any family? Only faint memories

3. Any familiar? A smartass fly named Myiagros

4. Love Interest? Every single one. How does that work timeline-wise? You're asking the wrong person, I don't even know how my day is supposed to work timeline-wise.

5. Best strength in magic? Her biggest strength would be using magic in creative, unconventional ways. Naturally talented in wind magic. Coming from a family of travelling story-tellers, blessed with a literally enchanting voice. Well versed in hiding her presence, altering her appearance, passing through unnoticed and being forgotten quickly.  

6. Favourite colour?  Royal blue, gold, and wine red

7. Favourite number? 4

8. Sexuality? Pan & Polyamorous

9. Weird hobby? Occasionally raising the dead.

10. Favourite season? Summer

11. Favourite weather? Warm but windy. Also night storms.

12. Favourite place in Vesuvia? The Fields

13. How does their laughter sound? Her honest laugh can only described as silent shaking. If you hear her laugh at you, she wants you to hear.

14. How do they look when they cry? 2 types: the Hollywood perfect fake crying, silent tears streaming down her cheekbones, artfully smudged facial paint; and the red eyes, voice breaking, lots of yelling, frustration crying  

15. What do they like to wear? Lots of colour, lots of layers, patterns resembling the night sky. Fond of cloaks, capes, headscarves, veils and flashy facial paint. Anything that helps her hide her facial features. She has little regard to fashion though, and mostly just wears whatever was on the top of the clean pile. It has some... interesting results.

16. What are their fears? Closed spaces, losing magic. Her biggest fear is that people important to her would abandon her after seeing her true shelf.  

17. What do they like to do Friday night? Clear weather? It's astronomy time. Otherwise she loves to go out dancing, and has no problem finding company. However if she's in the middle of some interesting magic stuff, well good luck, she's not going anywhere until it's finished.

18. Do they use makeup? Makeup, magic, magic reinforced makeup, it's all fair game. Mostly for fun. Illegal stuff, sometimes. All the flashy face paint. Lucio's crying in the corner.

19. Favourite food? Shrimps!

20. Favourite drink? Coffee

21. Zodiac sign? Aquarius

22. Day of birth? Classified information

23. Favourite play? Richard III

24. Favourite music? Her taste of music is somewhere right next to her fashion sense

25. Favourite song? Tinariwen - Nánnufláy

26. What are their aesthetics? The endless night sky, copper wind chimes, sand shifting, the piper of Hamelin, cornflowers in wheat fields, the call of the road, tall buildings with gargoyles, untameable hair, mountain peaks and open fields, scarf gone with the wind, dancing barefoot, the milky way

27. What is their style? Eclectic

28. What is their height? Taller than Asra, shorter than Nadia

29. Any mental health issues? Fear of abandonment, slight anxiety  

30. Any health issues in general? Not quite an issue, but very sensitive to cold

31. Favourite book? The Decameron

32. Favourite book genre? Folktales, short stories, anecdotes. Also a lot of non-fiction.  

33. Favourite time of the day? Night

34. If they weren’t a magician, who would they be? Hard question. Being a magician is a large part of her sense of self. She's already a successful shop owner and spy on the side, so probably one of those. She also made a decent healer.

35. Do they believe in ghosts? It kinda comes with her job.

36. Do they believe in demons? Same as above.

37. Do they like sports? Depends. She's pretty fit, but sports involving a lot of rules aren't her thing.

38. Favourite dessert? Chocolate. And those fancy pastries with a million layers.

39. What is their biggest motivation to solve Lucio’s killer mystery? Curiosity and boredom.  

40. What do they think of Lucio so far? (I'll answer these as how Scilla thinks of the LI's at the early stages of their routes) Very entertaining company, but oh boy, so dumb. It's endearing though. They both have secrets they're hesitant to share with each other, and neither of them is happy about the snow.

41. What do they think of Nadia so far? Ooh, challenge. Nadia not only pikes her interest, she really awakens Scilla's need to prove herself. She desperately wants to gain her respect and favour.  

42. What do they think of Asra so far? There's no life without Asra. He's already the centre of her world, but oh my god they were roommates. They love each other very dearly, but they can get under each other's skin in a second. Lots of frustration to work through.  

43. What do they think of Julian so far? She's having a ball, this man is chaos, and she thrives in chaos. He's one of the few who can keep up with her, both in incoherent trains of thoughts and semi-parkouring around the city.

44. What do they think of Portia so far? It was love at first sight, slow motion, cheesy music, everything. She tries to hide just how far she's fallen, because it's really stupid, she's not that easy to win over, but she's failing miserably. Scilla is prepared to do anything to save her from harm.

45. What do they think of Muriel so far? They got off the wrong foot, and he's really trying her patience, as Scilla is not used to people disliking her. They have a long way to go, and I have a long fic to write :(

46. Do they like animals? She grew up poor, so the concept of keeping animals as friends is weird to her. If Scilla sees an animal her mind automatically sorts it to edible/non edible, could be used for farm work/practically useless. This is one of her many conflicts with Muriel. Of course this changes with time and she'd never eat Faust or Pepi, but Camio's on thin fucking ice.

47. Are they allergic to anything? Humourless people

48. Do they have any talents (except magic)? Dancing and astronomy. Also has a knack for smooth social interactions.  

49. Do they get drunken easily? Hates to lose control over her actions, so she doesn't really drink.

50. What is their personality type?  no idea

51. What is their worst negative quality? Desire to control people, greed, mistrust, dishonesty, a tendency to start unnecessary arguments, impulsiveness, pettiness.  

52. What is their best positive quality? Creativity, attentiveness, sense of humour, willingness to help, friendliness, politeness, problem solving attitude.  

53. What is their position to fall asleep? CUDDLE. If only a pillow, then a pillow.

54. The most uncomfortable moment they ever experienced? Getting caught lying by Asra. She used magic to vanish on the spot.

55. Their happiest memory? Waking up surrounded by those she loves, and realising it's not Asra's turn to make breakfast.  

56. Do they blush? It doesn't really show on her skin.

57. Are they clumsy? Quite the opposite.  

58. Do they like jokes? Hell yeah.

59. How do they flirt? You've got to be careful with an enchanting voice, so it's mostly nonverbal, the right dress does all the talking for her. Casual touches, eyes lingering a bit too long. Letting the strap of the dress slide off her shoulders, or her shirt ride up a bit. In a relationship, she's ready to throw in some whispered dirty talk and not so casual touching.  

60. Favourite fruit? Grapes, blueberries and sour cherry.

Why, yes! I do have too much time on my hands due social distancing :)

The questions are originally from @gemarcana​ I think, picture made with picrew

[aphrodaisyacs]

Stoki Fic Rec List

No Six Sentence Sunday this week just me and my first ever fic rec list. This is the result of me caring too much for a rarepair that not enough of the fandom cares about but ANYWAY. The fic rec lists I’ve seen for this pairing are quite a few years old, so I decided to make a new one of my own. The list is sorted in chronological order of the MCU timeline, and also quite long, which is why I put it under a read more:

under bright stars burning by @thelightofthingshopedfor (nearly 21k words, Teen and Up)

When Steve is a kid, he meets a boy named Loki who says he's a prince and shows him real magic. It's kind of weird (but that doesn't mean he doesn't like it).

A fic where Steve and Loki sort-of grow up together, but it’s still set in the canon-verse (don’t worry, the timeline discrepancy gets explained). Kid!Loki and Kid!Steve are so damn adorable, there’s quite a bit of angst between them but there’s also more than enough hurt/comfort to make up for it. I was so disappointed when this fic ended where it did, because I enjoyed it so much that I wanted it to go on forever.

Silver Moon by aurilly (23k+ words, Mature)

Steve and Bucky meet a weirdly dressed guy who claims to be a banished prince from some place they've never heard of. Most New Yorkers would have left the lunatic right where they found him, but Steve and Bucky have never been good at doing things the easy way.

Okay so I cheated a bit, because this fic is actually Steve/Loki/Bucky, but. It is so well-written that I’m including it in this list anyway. In this universe Loki discovers his heritage far earlier than in canon, which leads to a series of events resulting in him getting his powers stripped then banished to pre-WWII Midgard- specifically, Brooklyn. After repeatedly failing to convince Heimdall to return him to Asgard, Loki eventually settles into a life with Steve and Bucky. But then WWII happens. Slow build, quite a bit of angst, but there’s an optimistic ending.

Those Who Favor Ice by CatalenaMara (18k+ words, Explicit)

“You haven’t said anything incorrectly so far,” Steve said, and could hear an edge in his voice.

“Men of such beauty and strength and talent often feel they must outshine everyone they meet. That they must cast a very large shadow so that the world sees only them.”

So many emotions crossed Loki’s face so quickly that Steve could only interpret a few. Resentment. And longing. And need.

“I wasn’t always strong,” Steve said slowly. “Not as a child. I was sickly - so weak that anyone could beat me.”

Loki’s gaze sharpened. “And did they? Beat you?”

Don’t mind me I just love fics that feature Jotunn!Loki and/or Loki dealing with his heritage and Jotunheim in general. We get to see a possibility of what might have been if Heimdall hadn’t betrayed King Loki, which apparently involves Loki running off to become King of Jotunheim and later Steve’s lover. Beautiful prose, smut that doubles as character study, A+.

Madness by @scotlandevander (19k+ words, Teen and Up)

Time makes a deal and when Time makes a deal, it plays out till it is fulfilled. Steve Rogers is learning this the hard way and he’s quite sure it’ll end in madness.

Steve is stuck in a time loop spanning from the moment he wakes up in the 21st century to the events of T:DW. Needless to say it doesn’t take very long for him to run out of fucks to give. I really love the gradual development of Steve’s relationships with Bruce, Natasha and of course Loki throughout the loops. The progression of Stoki is slow mainly because Steve’s a useless bisexual and nice to read. Definitely one of my all-time favourites for this ship.  

Living Contradiction by Ebyru (1k+ words, Teen and Up)

Loki hates Captain America, but over time he realizes it’s a lie.

Excerpt: "Captain America is brave, strong, independent and an astounding leader. Maybe no-one can tell, but far beneath the mask of strength he wears and the flag he carries, Loki can see he’s just a follower."

Something short and sweet set vaguely post-Avengers (2012). Contemplative character study as Loki learns more about the man underneath the Captain America costume. I recommend this if you’re in the mood for a quick pre-slash read.

In The Land of Gods and Monsters by thisiswhatthewatergaveme (nearly 5k words, Explicit)

Steve makes a mistake: he lets his guard down. He lets a momentary relief cloud his judgment. He doesn’t spring into action when Loki spins around and presses a tight-lipped kiss against his mouth. Doesn’t even move when it softens, slightly, Loki’s hands curling over his arms.

And then the god is gone and Steve realizes something important. He realizes, perhaps for the first time, that there are different kinds of war.

While the author has tagged this fic as Porn Without Plot, I think it’s more accurate to say that there is plot, it’s just that the entire plot is centred on the build-up to the porn. And said build-up is mostly Loki catching Steve unawares to kiss him, interspersed with Steve suffering some moral crises over being attracted to his enemy.

Thawing Universe by Vulcanmi (17k+ words, Teen and Up)

A what if that starts after the events of Thor: the Dark World but before Winter Soldier. What if Loki had gotten tired of playing Odin?

Parts 1, 2 & 3 are purely Stoki, while part 4 & 5 are Thor/Bucky-centric with background Stoki. Loki gets bored of pretending to be Odin rather quickly, and thus he goes down to Earth to continually invite himself over to Steve’s apartment. Steve has exactly zero say in all of this. This series makes the pairing seem way more adorable than it has any right to be, all the while keeping everyone in-character. Part 1 builds the relationship, part 2 has the other Avengers reacting to it, and part 3 has Steve finally getting off his useless bisexual ass and asking Loki out for real. One of my favourite depictions of this pairing for sure.

Strange Love by @dvswraatins (12k words, Teen and Up)

It starts with a simple taunt.

Spoiler alert: the aforementioned “taunt” is Loki putting on a great show of seducing Steve in order to piss off Thor. Featuring Loki being unapologetically a piece of shit, Loki as a part-time Avenger and narration that becomes hilariously descriptive whenever Thor enters the picture. One of the things I adore about this fic is that it explores a dynamic for this pairing I didn’t know I needed- of Loki trying to use Steve for his own gain, but Steve manipulating him right back.

The Dreamfasting by suchaprettyface (80k+ words, Explicit)

This is the highly unlikely and yet somehow inevitable story of how Captain Steve Rogers, Avenger, becomes the lover of Loki Odinson, younger prince of Asgard and Public Enemy Number 1 according to the FBI database of known offenders.

Steve and Loki discover quite by accident that they are connected by a very old form of magic whose initial purpose seems to be getting them in each other's pants as often as possible. But there's far, far more at work than that...

To break this series down to its bare essentials: lots of porn + lots of plot. Post-AoU, Loki gets captured by SHIELD but almost immediately after Steve runs into him again, the two of them begin sharing wet dreams. The more dreams they share, the stronger the indescribable connection between them grows. Yet, in the background of all the dream-fucking, there is the mystery of why these dreams even exist in the first place, as well as Steve finding himself physically changed by them. 

Look At Me Now by @arimabat (33k+ words, Teen and Up)

Steve is on the run. His already complicated life becomes just a little more complicated when an old enemy shows up unexpectedly. But Loki has changed since their last encounter and he could have crucial information to stop a fast-approaching threat. If he’s willing to tell Steve.

Or, the one where Loki keeps bothering Steve until he figures out a way to get something useful out of it and then it all just becomes a mess.

Post-Civil War, pre-Ragnarok. Loki is absolutely delighted by a jaded, cynical Steve, and Steve is very much unamused by the unwanted attention. Steve attempts to take advantage of this attention anyway by interrogating Loki about the Infinity Stones, which leads to the gradual development of a relationship neither of them expected. I absolutely love the conversations and banter between everyone in this fic- not just between Steve and Loki, but also between Steve, Natasha, Sam and Wanda. However, (spoiler alert) the ending for this fic isn’t all too happy BUT the good news is that it’s part of a series, which isn’t complete yet at the time I’m typing this up.

Be My All-American Boy by @gavotteangel (6k+ words, Teen and Up)

It's Steve Rogers' birthday and it's Independence Day. Naturally, the freshly reunited Avengers vacation to a lake house and throw him a party. Nothing goes as expected.

Or: LOKI HAS A BIG FAT CRUSH HAPPY 4TH OF JULY FOLKS

Post-Ragnarok, post-Civil War, with a dose of Infinity War being cancelled. Highlights include Loki having a crush on bearded!Steve and abhorring the fact that the crush even exists in the first place, Loki trying his best to hold back his stabby instincts on his new allies, Loki and Natasha being drinking buddies and Loki eating the rest of Steve’s birthday cake out of pure pettiness.

I’m also going to shamelessly self-promote and rec my own series Mischief Managed (nearly 20k words, Teen and Up)

Set post-Ragnarok in an AU where Infinity War is cancelled and Steve and Tony have gotten their shit together.

The series follows Steve and Loki while they form an unlikely bond as they team up to prank others, again and again.

Initially based on this headcanon, with Steve getting the opportunity to confront Loki about it, which somehow leads to both of them teaming up to prank the rest of the Avengers. Part 2 expands on the unlikely friendship they formed in part 1, except this time Steve and Loki take advantage of the media circus and fake date to piss off homophobes. Meanwhile, the Avengers are forced to watch this train wreck happen in real time. According to the comments this series is funny enough that it made people laugh not that I’d be able to judge properly since I’m the one who wrote it. 

Tangerines are Sweet Enough by @fel-as-in-tumbld (4k+ words, General)

(Steve is seven, cold and hungry and it's Christmas morning; he's seven, sitting on the floor, pulling perfect miniature suns out of the foot of his stocking. Tangerines; he's seven, and he can feel the flesh tear under his thumbnail, can taste the burst of flavour on his tongue, the juice slide down his throat; he's seven, and he's sitting with his mother and everything has been cold and hunger, but there is this--tangerines, like eating the sun with his mother, and the warmth of her laughter--

Steve hasn't eaten a tangerine since she died, since Bucky vanished off to war; too many memories, too much intimacy.

Post-Infinity War fic where Loki actually gets revived I’m looking at you Russos. It has beautiful prose which sets a soft, wistful tone to the whole thing, helped by the fact that it takes place during the winter holidays. Steve and Loki’s relationship here is... well, melancholic, mostly, but it does end on a warm note. 

*

This rec list only reflects my personal reading experiences (and are also only limited to AO3), so feel free to add more suggestions in reblogs or replies!

Honorary mention goes to Remember This Cold by @veliseraptor (nearly 800k words, ranges from General to Explicit depending on the part) which I didn’t include in the main list because let’s be real, anyone who’s looking for Stoki fic recs has already read this series.

[mckittyarts]

(1)aaaaa your twi is an absolute bae ♡♡♡ but anyways, I'm back! and I'm going to stop using dots in my asks from now;; anything perceived as links in the asks gets the ask yeeted into the void apparently and I'm too scatterbrained to keep track of the space but I digress okay so is there a language barrier? they're all from different timelines right so language's probably changed a lot, if so, did they have trouble understanding each other at first and how did they work around it? like,,,

aAA thank you anon!! from this point on i’m gonna keep my headcanons under the cut to keep ask clutter to a minimum, so take a look at that for the answers! there are a doodle down there too so ;)

Language Barrier/Cultural Differences:

 - honestly haven’t thought much about a language barrier other than Warrior using sign language asdfghjk,, realistically they probably would but as much as it makes the most sense we’ve decided to just pretend like that’s not a thing just for better RP flow and general shenanigans– that’s a really really good question though!

 - there are however cultural differences, Twi would be very confused if Wind mentioned something about the Great Flood since that never happened in his timeline. there are especially differences when it comes to legends! A good example is Sky who, as the first hero(not counting the prequel manga shush), has a lot of different interpretations that differ from what really happened - later Links (like Twi and Wind) think that people already inhabited the surface and a hero was sent from the heavens when hell broke loose. in the adult timeline it’s especially potent because the flood washed away so many details of the ancient legends that they’re much more like fairy tales at this point. Wind seems to believe that Sky was a Rito since he flew around and Minish was literally born an inch tall. needless to say, he was very disappointed when he found out they were just grumpy little Hylians.

- ABSOLUTELY they share stories about their adventures and the most outgoing ones love to share stories about their scars too! most of the later Links absolutely love hearing stories about their childhood heroes its so very sweet

My Talented Little Music Boys:

- AAA i love talking about their musical skill tbh– okay so yes! most of them play have an instrument and they do play them with various degrees of success,, BUT here’s the list; - Twi sings really really well and does so often(he also has his Horse Call)- Sky plays harp but he isn’t really that good at it- Time, Minish and Alti all have ocarinas, Time’s fantastic at it because he grew up as a Kokiri, Minish couldn’t play a good note to save his life and we’ll get to Alti later- Wind has the Wind Waker which looks cool when he swooshes it around but it doesn’t really do anything other than mess with the wind- Engi has the Spirit Flute and is pretty decent after Zelda’s many lessons on how to properly play it- Classic has a recorder,,, it can go TOOT TOOT but doesnt really sound good- Albi only has a little bell which is just a bit useless- the only instrument Warrior and Wild have is the sound of their suffering- ALTI. PLAYS. EVERY. SINGLE. INSTRUMENT. I AM NOT KIDDING. HE HAS LIKE EVERY INSTRUMENT MENTIONED ABOVE AND MORE. HE IS A ONE MAN BAND

Gender Headcanons and Etc:

 - no I don’t have any gender headcanons, all mine identify as cis boys,, sorry if that disappoints anyone :( i have nothing against people who headcanon them as trans/nb/whatever though, it’s always so nice to see everyone’s interpretation of them all! and i will also add that a vast majority of my versions of the Links are either bi, gay or ace!

 - hhh i did actually get your other ask and i’m really sorry i didn’t reply to it earlier– i was a bit busy over the weekend and i was a little confused by the question! Honestly still am still a bit confused but,, out of my versions, Wild is actually one of the more laid back and docile Links despite being so reckless and rowdy,, i don’t think i’ve ever seen other people draw him with a temper either though, but i dont really spend so much time browsing tumblr so i might be very wrong asdfghjk,, but yes Time will absolutely eat anything he does not care all he knows is that he needs nutrients for his Big Dumb Body

i think that is all?? again, if you(or anyone else) has any more questions, feel free to shoot me an ask!! it’s honestly so fun to answer and i love doodling small dumb things for these asdfghj,,

[snkpolls]

SnK S3E11 Poll Results (Manga Reader Version)

The poll closed with 372 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that this is the results of the manga reader poll. Anime only watchers are suggested not to read if you do not wish to be spoiled about certain events! Anime only viewers, click here to view your poll results!

RATE THE EPISODE 367 Responses

Another week, another episode with high ratings. We’re happy to see overall enjoyment of the anime has stayed steady for several weeks!

best episode of the season thus far; nothing in this show has made me cry so hard since ymir's call of silence moment from season 2. WIT did amazing!

Best episode of this season!!! So happy with the way it turned out, except I wish they didn't play the credits when Carla was speaking at the end cause that took away from it. Also, baby Eren is the cutest thing to exist.

F L O C K! Very nice episode

great episode, really helped close things up with uprising and its setting up the change of gears for RtS

It was one of my favourite by far.

The episode was amazing as hell

THIS EPISODE HAD A SENSE OF FINALITY TO THE ARC. DO YOU THINK WE WILL GET A NEW OP/ED NEXT WEEK, DESPITE THE UPCOMING BREAK? 367 Responses

The majority of voters are confident we’ll be getting the same OP/ED combo one more time to finish off the story arc. It’s about an even split between those who think we will get something new and those who are unsure.

Withdrawal already starting to set in... what will we do without new eps.... and new polls to answer... no more new gifs... pls don't make it another 84 years. I cannot take that again.

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES WERE YOUR FAVORITES? 367 Responses

The most beloved moment of the episode was seeing Eren smile after hearing what his mom had to say about him so long ago. Keith and Grisha’s backstory were close runner ups. The orphanage and the new titan guillotine also got plenty of votes!

I loved to see young Grisha, I like everything about his backstory.

The nosebleed... that is all

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING CHARACTER INTERACTIONS WERE YOUR FAVORITES? 368 Responses

Similarly to above, hearing Carla’s words to Eren was the favorite moment of the episode. Sasha trying to stay away from Keith got laughs out of many of us! Eren making Historia blush, Jean’s heckling him over her and Mikasa’s jealousy about them talking together were also highlights for the voters. Keith interacting with Eren’s parents also got high rankings.

Levi being all worried about Eren was something I really needed <3

Jeans salty ass comment towards Eren about Historia is why I love the man

Hanji's way of getting mad at Keith is even better in anime version and her voice is perfect <3

mikasa cockblockerman

I really really wish we had more Grisha x Carla interactions both in the manga and the anime. The little that we have seen from Eren and Mikasa's perspective shows a very affectionate relationship. Still, I really like how well WIT has brought even those few interactions to life.

Hange was absolutely amazing in this episode. I missed that insane excitement of hers! Historia's look upon being confronted by Mikasa was priceless! And Springles' teasing Marlow! Ahhh this was a very sweet episode! Now I'm just looking forward to the next one for major Eruri feels!

WHO'S MORE OBLIVIOUS TO ROMANCE - EREN OR MARLOWE? 362 Responses

It was a close call, but ultimately Eren wins the award of most romantically oblivious character!

HOW BEAUTIFUL DID CARLA LOOK AT THE WEDDING? 367 Responses

While a few voters weren’t impressed, the majority of voters found Carla absolutely stunning at her wedding.

Carla Jeager is the best mom of this show, that's all😞💖

Fuck Isayama and wit for making Carla so beautiful and just killing her off episode/chapter 1 my gay heart can’t take it

I’m sorry but all I thought whenever I saw Carla this episode was ‘Wow, she looks a lot like if Eren was crossdressing’ like the wedding, no that was just Eren crossdressing

Tfw Carla in a wedding dress looks like Eren with too much blush on... Poor woman, if she only knew what she was getting herself into.

It was so wonderful seeing Carla after so long! She looked absolutely stunning.

HOW CUTE WAS BABY EREN? 367 Responses

The majority of voters agree that baby Eren had the most pinchable cheeks, while a few weren’t fans.

Baby Eren is so cuuute!!!! OMFG

Baby Eren wasn't that cute, but him munching on Carla's hair melted even my frozen heart.

HOW DID YOU FEEL ABOUT KEITH AFTER HE TOLD HIS STORY? 367 Responses

Over half of voters felt bad for Keith after hearing his backstory. 21% felt he was just pitiful, and 12% related to Hange’s anger and disappointment toward him. Most of the write in comments were very understanding of him:

I felt bad for him when I read the manga chapter but I don’t know why, I thought he was kind of pitiful in the anime. Maybe it’s because the scene where Keith feels guilty and wants to apologize to Carla for what he said to her.

This man deserved happiness

I really didn't like him and his excuses.

i respect him

I felt sorry for him. This guy is a good guy but he has very low self esteem.

I think he's the same as Eren: normal person chosen to be someone special

I have mixed feelings about Keith. On one hand, he endured so much suffering throughout his life. He went outside the walls, something unthinkable for most people, and fought for what he believed in for over two decades. In the end, he had nothing to show for his efforts. On the other hand, he cost so many soldiers their lives because he was completely caught up in his inferiority complex. While I feel sorry for him, I agree with Hange.

A little bit of all the choices I suppose.

I relate to him lol

I realized that Keith is the character I can identify the most with. Somehow he resembles my own sad life.

Not as useless as he says

Well how would YOU feel if some rando from oUtSidE tHe fUcKiNg wALLs stole your girl?

I felt really sorry for poor Shadis. He had a gold heart but saw himself as useless. Maybe he wasn't talented commander and lost love of his life, but he is special and unique on his own way. He should understand what Carla was saying about Eren - "everyone is special" - doesn't matter if they do small or big things.

YOUR REACTION TO CARLA’S WORDS ABOUT EREN BEING SPECIAL? 365 Responses

Nearly 40% of voters found the words very touching, almost 30% believe it was something Eren really needed to hear at that time and 24% are still shedding tears over the commentary. A small few weren’t affected by the scene at all.

Eren is special, even if he doesn't think so (in many past moments and also future things he will do). He is different than others and not because he has the power of titans. His personality is unique, but also very realistic. Isayama has portrayed him really well.

Eren isn't special, and that makes him special

Carla's moving words about Eren were sadly wasted on him. Nobody tell Carla!

It was very heartwarming and full of love. Carla didn't care if Eren was going to be special or not. She just loved him warmly.

Those words resonated with me.

This episode by far was one of the most touching to me because Eren got acknowledged by his mother through Keith and i really feel like he needed to hear that because of how it would affect his morals from then on.

KEITH WANTED TO PROTECT EREN FOR CARLA’S SAKE. WHY DO YOU THINK HE GAVE IN AND LET EREN PURSUE THE SURVEY CORPS? 365 Responses

Over half of voters believe that Keith realized he couldn’t stop anything. 30% believe that he could see Eren was truly one of the “special people” that would bring about change. Smaller groups of people believe he cared about Eren’s autonomy or that he wanted to honor Grisha.

He did his best, but his best was never enough. The story of Keith's life as told by Keith.

I think Grisha's final words to him really hit him at that point. That he was just a bystander, but Eren being Grisha's son was anything but. He was one of the special people.

He saw his determination to keep going even though all odds were against him. Who is Shadis to decide to stop him?

He gave up after seeing Eren's determination

He realized no matter how hard he tries, he can't change anything. When he became commander, he couldn't save Survey Corps members from death, or prevent missions from failing. Just as he was a bystander when his fellow comrades fell victim to titans, he is a bystander as Eren progresses.

He saw in Eren the strong personality, a huge will power and also the fact the Eren may be more special than his father.

I think it’s a mix between fate and that he saw Eren was destined to be special so anymore interfering would result in failure in the end on his part. I think he realized Eren was just that Special of a person.

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE SCENE OF THE VETS TALKING WITH ZACKLEY AND LEVI BEING ENTRUSTED WITH THE SERUM BEING PUSHED TO THE FOLLOWING EPISODE? 364 Responses

35% of voters agree that as long as the scene is included, that’s all that matters. 27% didn’t even realize the scene was missing and 26% agree that saving it for next episode was a good pacing decision. 10% still prefer the timeline of the manga.

Good decision. This episode was cramped as it is, having to skip the ED just to fit in everything, and having cut out so many dialogue, that if they put that scene in something else would have suffered. I already feel bad that Keith's chapter only got half an episode whereas Kenny got a full episode to himself. I've always liked Keith's story better too.

I can't wait!

Good decision. It wouldn't really fit in with the tone of this episode.

THOUGHTS ON FLOCH’S STYLISH RED ANIME-PROTAG HAIR? 361 Responses

Nearly half of voters were initially thrown off by the change in Floch’s hair color, but are ultimately open to it. 30% are still trying to figure out what is real in life and what isn’t. 14% think WIT committed an atrocity. A very small few think it suits him perfectly.

A surprise, to be sure, but a welcomed one.

I demand more swirls

His hair looks like an eagles nest but go off

Makes him more unique, in order to stand out more, but blonde would look better

As a ginger im offended, but I guess they did it to make him stand out ... and look less like Trump.

I thought he was blonde, but I still like it!

I hate floch and this is STILL the worst thing thats ever happened to me

I couldn’t think this was ever possible BUT Wit has made Floch even more awful... His hair is already one of the WORST thing in the world, now the color too. It makes me to dislike him even more lol. Thank you Wit for this pearl

Why they gotta do this to my man?

I imagined him as blonde so I'm still adjusting to that

It makes him look like the sort of guy who pulls over to show off his modified Honda Civic while blaring dubstep from his super rad sound system. Which is exactly the kind of person I've always pictured him as.

Wit seems to be making a lot of hair color changes that we don't expect this season. I don't hate it though.

HOW DO YOU THINK THAT KEITH, CARLA AND GRISHA WOULD FEEL ABOUT EREN IF THEY COULD SEE THE DIRECTION HE’S GONE IN RECENT MANGA CHAPTERS?

The results came out about as expected. Keith was a mixed bag with the majority of voters believing that he would either be neutral or a bit disappointed in Eren’s current actions. Carla being very upset with Eren’s actions got the most votes out of anything, while a smaller few just think she would be disappointed. Most voters agree that Grisha would be either proud or at least very understanding of Eren’s current choices and actions. Makes us wonder how Carla and Grisha would have co-parented as Eren got older!

Why there isn't a WTF option on the "What would Grisha/Keith/Carla think?"

WHICH SCENE FROM THE PV ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? 364 Responses

Overall, voters are looking forward to the scene where Eren, Mikasa and Armin have their talk, but 36% of voters are most looking forward to the detail of Levi listening in on them. 15% are looking forward to Sasha’s reaction to getting to eat meat, and 11% are looking forward to Erwin giving his fellow Survey Corps leaders words of encouragement before the retaking of Wall Maria.

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

A very poignant one, considering they hired about a dozen of directors just for this episode.

Floch's hair is a bird's nest. Keith=Snape confirmed. Baby Eren eating Carla's hair is the purest thing to come out of this sad-factory.

Bystander is one of my favorite Manga Chapters of the series and the WIT definitely did justice to it. Thanks, WIT.

Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch Floch

I can't believe Uprising is already over! It hasn't even been twelve episodes yet and I'm excited for Return To Shiganshina but I'm also not ready…

I feel like this episode, particularly Keith's story, recaptured some of the sadness and sense of helplessness from early in Season 1. It was a breath of fresh air.

My god! What an episode, ladies and gents. This episode is by far my favorite (except for Floch's hair color, he should have been blonde, not anime-protag red). Now let's wait for next week's talk about the ocean with the Shignashina trio, shall we?

I feel so split. I want Eren to know he's great and brilliant but the way he's going in the manga scares me so much! Who is he now?!

Episode was great but I wish they would've kept these thoughts by Keith: "Those eyes. It's just like his father wanted. His life is like a blazing fire. And I'm sure that fire will burn him to ashes outside the walls. He'll never know what his mother wanted for him."  Not a big deal at all but I just really liked those lines.

Is it just me or did this episode seem to put a lot of emphasis on Armin in a lot of Floch's scenes? Was it the same in the manga?? Foreshadowing??? I don't even remember.

Not enough Erwin. I need more Erwin.

I'm especially in awe of the animation because oh my god, Eren does resemble Carla most, but you can just see current manga Eren in young Grisha's appearance! I'm not so good at figuring out which features of the face make it so, but I think it's beautiful and lends a lot more authenticity to the fact that Eren resembles both his parents in a way, just like people do in real life!

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 345 Responses

Thanks again to everyone who participated. See you again on Tuesday!

[vorthosjay]

Let’s Talk About The Arbiter of Law Left Chaos In His Wake

I’m convinced the Creative Team is lengthening these titles to troll me :P

Today’s article is AWESOME. Check it out here. This one took a little extra long to write. Let’s go!

The Immortal Sun by Kieran Yanner

"You and the pirate drift on similar currents," Tishana said cryptically. "What do you see when you glimpse beyond our veil?"

"My chain in your face!" yelled Angrath from under the dinosaur's foot. Huatli flicked her wrist and her dinosaur shoved him deeper into the dirt.

Angrath is still the best. He has really gotten the short end of the stick on Ixalan.

The tower ahead seemed to be staining the sky an inky black. Huatli gasped as she saw a body start to fall from the top of the tower.

Okay, so CONTEXT CLUES. This segment takes place at the same time as the beginning of The Flood.

A siren flew overhead, a familiar woman clinging to an armful of weathered canvas charged below, and in front was a scraggly and mad-looking goblin. The goblin waved a sword longer than himself in the air. He screeched with abandon as he charged. "WE WANT SUN! WE WANT SUN!"

Breeches!

There it was, inlaid in the glittering gold of the floor, as real as ever; the disk could only be the Immortal Sun.

Note how they keep referring to it as a disk? The Immortal Sun is DEFINITELY the thing from Nissa’s vision in The Hand That Moves.

It was a man's voice singing, melodic and soft.

Male sirens!

There, just handspans away from the open window, was a feathered siren, the pirate from the Belligerent, and clinging to his neck was a manic-looking goblin.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Huatli realized what was about to happen. The goblin leaped forward onto Vona's face.

"VIOLENCE!" he yelled.

The song stopped, and the siren cheered. "Go for the eyes, Breeches!" 

The goblin was clawing and scratching at the vampire woman's face, laughing all the while.

Breeches remains the most relatable character in Magic: the Gathering.

Huatli recognized the smell of burnt meat just as the minotaur casually tossed her the charred head of the dinosaur she had assigned to stand on top of him. The head hit the ground with a meaty slap.

"You are AWFUL!" Huatli screamed at Angrath.

“YOU MADE YOUR DINOSAUR STAND ON TOP OF ME!" he howled back before setting his sights on the conquistador with the goblin on her face.

Let’s dissect this for a second.

Huatli is mind controlling dinosaurs, and putting them in harms way. And she calls ANGRATH awful? After he was betrayed by someone who he thought an ally just moments before?

The Elder Dinosaurs have awoken, Huatli thought, and a tear ran down her cheek. The tale of the Elder Dinosaurs had taken the longest to memorize, an agonizing two years to lock in her mind in its entirety.

If you haven’t read Elders of the Multiverse, she’s probably referring to Zacama being the inspiration for the Threefold Sun. There isn’t actually two years worth of elder lore to memories, as cool as that would be, they’re ultimately minor figures in this story.

Now, though, as she kept her fear at bay by trying to locate the source of the pervasive smell of cats in the room (a shabby-looking nest of fabric and straw in the corner, which left no doubt that Azor had been in this room for a very long time), Vraska found herself thinking that the only good sphinx was a sphinx frozen in stone at the entrance to a library.

Azor for the last thousand years.

"If you are not here with a prisoner, then I assume you are here for this," Azor said. "The lock of my prison, my finest creation."

IXALAN IS A PRISON. CHECK!

"You will refer to her as Captain!" Jace asserted.

*Vraska starts getting sweaty, heart beating fast*

The sphinx crossed his paws in annoyance. "Because Ravnica was one of many, and I left when I was finished." He flicked his wings, trying another tactic. "You are talented, Living Guildpact. Have you upheld your responsibilities well at home?"

Oh yes. Yeeeessssss. We are tackling Oldwalkers.

"Azor, you built an incredibly intricate system with magic more complex than any one person could readily understand, and yet you made your failsafe a living mortal. Even if I had a gift for governance, I would not be able to accomplish the task I have been burdened with." 

This sphinx may have lived a thousand lifetimes longer than her, but he was a fool, a cruel patriarch. Azor was entirely unaware of the consequences of his interference. Vraska's fists were balled at her sides. "I don't think you have the authority to speak of flaws when you manipulated planes that were not yours only to abandon them when you wanted to move on to the next!" 

If any of you wonder why I love the character Jodah so much, it’s because he said this kind of thing to Oldwalkers back when they had god-like powers.

"As caretaker and arbiter of law for the entirety of the Multiverse, it was my duty to collaborate for the greater good. The Immortal Sun was built to imprison one specific enemy. It amplifies the magical abilities of whoever touches it, and it prevents planeswalkers from leaving a plane. The perfect cage for a diabolical Planeswalker! I gave up my spark to help create the Immortal Sun, the lock of my prison, my greatest gift to all living things." 

Azor growled. "He was my friend. He was supposed to help me get back my spark after our plan worked, which it did not—"

"He was to lure our foe to a faraway plane and I was to use the Immortal Sun to enhance my hieromancy and summon that foe here, to Ixalan. But I never received the signal to activate the Immortal Sun. I do not know my associate's fate," Azor said with a flick of his tail. "We devised the plan over a thousand years ago, and I came to Ixalan a little over a hundred years after that. He failed. I do not know what happened, but my execution was perfect—"

Azor continued rambling. "I did not want anything to do with the Immortal Sun. It was a reminder of my friend's failure, so I decided to give the gift of governance to this plane. Ixalan was to be ruled by whoever possessed the Immortal Sun, and I initially gifted it to a monastery in the east, in Torrezon. But they were not worthy, so I took it back, and gifted it to others. The Sun Empire was not worthy. The River Heralds, as evidenced by the awakening of Orazca, were not worthy. Only I am worthy, and so I must work further to perfect this system." 

Azor sputtered through his pain, "Our intention was to imprison Nicol Bolas—" 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH. A PARTNEEEEEER!

Who is depicted in a stylized for all over the plane? There’s really only one character that makes sense. Here are some things I thought up months ago in The Mysteries of Ixalan:

The timeline matches up, and others have noted that Ugin's involvement with Ixalan might have been why Nicol Bolas tried to kill him, finally explaining their battle in Fate Reforged.

What if Ugin planted something subconscious in Jace in case he did something as stupid as confronting Bolas? We know they exist, and there's really no other reason for why Jace would suddenly forget about his experience with Ugin. So if that's the case, where would you send a dangerous young man like Jace if he risked revealing your secrets to your greatest foe? If you were Ugin and prefer imprisoning over killing, you'd send him someplace he couldn't leave. 

Ugin, the Spirit Dragon by Raymond Swanland.

Here’s the timeline of events.

Over 1,280 years ago, Ugin and Azor cooked up this plan to imprison Bolas.

Azor goes to Ixalan to trigger the trap, while Ugin goes to lure Bolas.

Bolas catches wind of the plan, and snaps Ugin’s neck on Tarkir in a pitched battle.

Azor is left, for centuries, alone. He abandons the Immortal Sun with the people of Ixalan because it reminds him of what he once was.

Also telling is that Azor expected to get his spark back.

Then Ugin reawakened, and found that Bolas had trashed his other project: the Eldrazi.

Ugin sent Jace to Ixalan, either in the hopes that Bolas would follow, or to get Jace to meet Azor.

Now Bolas wants the Immortal Sun, and has been planning on acquiring it with the Planar Bridge. But for what purpose? Let’s look again at a key line:

He was to lure our foe to a faraway plane and I was to use the Immortal Sun to enhance my hieromancy and summon that foe here, to Ixalan.

What faraway plane would Ugin be able to A) lure Bolas to, and B) would allow  Azor to use his hieromancy to summon Bolas? I legitimately don’t know. Ravnica was still protected by a barrier of its own. Zendikar? Bolas needed a strong confluence of leylines to anchor himself to a plane at the time, and the Hedron network was already used to lure the Eldrazi to Zendikar, most likely by simulating a leyline pattern that attracted them.

The Immortal Sun by Kieran Yanner

Also, note how the Immortal Sun has stylized Ugin horns at the top, and a stylized A at the bottom. The two of these guys co-signed it. The whole thing is brimming with Ugin’s wispy vapor trails, too.

Vraska knelt next to Azor. "The wars of this plane are on your head, and the prison where I suffered needlessly on Ravnica, where my people were subjugated, was ultimately of your making." 

"The Living Guildpact maintains balance between the guilds of Ravnica. You, Azor, parun of the Azorius, are an inherent part of Ravnica, and have caused imbalance not just on my home, but on countless other planes." 

"You will be the master and caretaker of Useless Island. You will not be able to leave, and you will never meddle in the lives of sentient beings ever again. Leave the Immortal Sun here and depart with your life. As Living Guildpact, that is my decree." 

This is so good on so many levels. First of all it’s great to see an oldwalker get their comeuppance for once. They pulled this kind of thing all the time, and no one had the power to stop them.

It’s also great because Azor’s own magic is what does him in. It’s Jace’s power as the Living Guildpact that enables him to influence Azor like this. If you look back, that might also be how he got Azor to finally refer to Vraska as captain.

Last it’s great because despite Test of Metal’s dubious canonical status, it’s funny because both sphinx planeswalkers are now trapped on islands by Magic of their own making. Crucius on the etherium island pocket plane, and Azor on Ixalan by the Guildpact magic.

“Why does Nicol Bolas want an artifact that imprisons Planeswalkers?" she asked in hushed fear.

Jace's lips were a stern line, and he looked at her with dread.

"Vraska," he said, his voice wavering, "you need to know who you're working for."

Oh my god, if we got this level of info dump today, IMAGINE WHAT WE GET NEXT WEEK!

[poetic-sinema]

Silk Tea: Real Love*

A/N: I haven’t touched Silk Tea in about two years, but I was listening to Father John Misty’s Real Love Baby, and, well, here this is. 

Silk Tea is a series of oneshots written across the central theme of a couple falling in love through the course of an arranged marriage.

This series can be read separately, or in chronology (which can be found in the masterlist). A.D. Timeline.

Warnings: Smut. But with a (semblance of a) plot. Teasing. Oral (M&F receiving). They fuck™. Fluff.

Words: 3017

"So what you’re saying,” She sings as she twists herself to face him, shoulders still keeping to the rhythm of the song playing in the background, “Is that you bought me this necklace because you thought of fucking me in it?”

He knew confessing something like this would have brought about a level of petty teasing. 

“Shut up,” He blushes. It’s truly a joke how often she reduces him to this state.

In his defence, it was through a moment of weakness. He’d just gotten back from an especially long day at the office. It was a little before 2 in the morning when he arrives home. As he carefully pads into their room, he sees her lying still in bed. He tries his best to not make a sound, but she hears him shuffle anyway. 

He convinces her, attempts to anyway, to settle back in bed, “I’ll be fine,” He coos, but his wife is already on her feet, shoving him into the shower. 

“I’ll make you something,” She quips as she escapes their bedroom. She knows him well enough to know that he hasn’t had dinner, and that he would probably settle for instant noodles if she’d left him to his devices. 

He is out of the shower in 15 minutes, and as he strolls into the kitchen, she notices that he is already changed out into a pair of boxers and a white t-shirt. He places himself on the counter, leaning his cheek against his palm as he observes her in motion. 

“Pasta,” She says as she points down to the pan heating up in front of her, “And chicken,” She points to the microwave, “Okay?”

He sighs, he shouldn’t have been so lucky.

“You know I would eat anything you serve right out of the palm of your hands, my love, even if it were poison,” He fesses. 

She rolls her eyes as she turns to him, placing the hot meal, prepared and plated, in front of him, “The next time you leave your shoes in the doorway, I’ll try that.”

He grins, “I also suggest you rethink it,” He shoots, “I have people at the firm who’ll make sure you’re written out of the will.”

She narrows her eyes at him, “Damn it, that was literally the only reason I married you.”

He laughs as he sinks into a mouthful, grateful that they day’s energy he’d lost was replenished by this; the two of them, all domestic, and smiley, and stupid. His eyes are distracted by the pendant resting on her collarbone, the stone is a dark navy and falls like a teardrop.

“You know,” He starts, “I might not have told you the entire reason why I got you this.” He reaches over to daintily stroke against the stone before retracting his hand to bite his knuckle. His mind was trying to keep the words from tumbling out of his mouth.

“Mmhmm?” She runs her fingers through her hair before she settles across from him, “So what’s the entire reason?”

“I was thinking about you,” He bites his lip, “You remember the first time I told you that I was learning to love you?”

She nods, “Yeah, then you fuckin’ left me to contemplate what you meant while you jetted off to Curacao.”

“It was a business trip,” He argues. 

“That’s not the point.”

He rolls his eyes, “I got you that, didn’t I?” He points to the pendant. 

She sighs, “Fine, tell me then, what was the real reason you got me this.”

“I saw it along one of those small roadside vendors outside a restaurant we were having lunch at, and it caught my eye. And I instantly pictured it on you,” He admits, to which her lips curl up into a smile. 

“But I didn’t buy it immediately,” She raises a brow, “I went back to the hotel room that night, and I was satisfying one of my…” He contemplates, “Urges.”

“Urges?”

“I was knocking one out of the park, alright, a man has needs.” He explains in exasperation.

She buries her face in her hands as she bellows a hearty laugh. Making him suffer through his stories is truly a talent only she has mastered.

“Okay,” She calms down, “So you were satisfying an urge…?”

He nods, “Yes. And I was thinking of you.” His eyes draw up to her as he licks his lips, “And I thought about how perfect the pendant would look swinging back and forth as I…”

“As you rail me?” She questions in laughter. 

“I was thinking more along the lines of as we made love, but of course yours is more romantic, I concede.” The sarcasm drips from his tone as she snickers.

Which brings them to now. They had taken a break from the conversation when he moves to the sink to clean up. She had gotten hold of the chocolates he’d bought her in secret earlier - he always remembers to grab a bar when he’s late home, she has many unfinished wrappers strewn around in the fridge as result, always unwrapping a new one before she finishes the other.

I want real love baby

Ooh, don’t leave me waiting

I’ve got real love maybe

Wait until you taste me

Real Love Baby echoes through the apartment. Her shoulders sink into its rhythm as she mouths the words, him approaching her with a soft grin as he laces his arms around her.

"So what you’re saying,” She sings as she twists herself to face him, shoulders still keeping to the rhythm of the song playing in the background, “Is that you bought me this necklace because you thought of fucking me in it?”

He knew confessing something like this would have brought about a level of petty teasing. 

“Shut up,” He blushes. It’s truly a joke how often she’s able to reduce him to this state.

She laughs, “Oh honey, I think it’s cute,” She reasons, “But this was way before we established anything, right?”

He nods, holding her wrist up to get a bite of the chocolate between her fingers. She slaps him away, “Get your own, this is mine.”

He scowls, “Might I remind you who got that for you.”

“Yeah, you got it as cheap apology for coming home late and waking me up in the middle of the night. I deserve this.”

He shakes his head, both incredulous and defeated, “Come here,” He pulls her up to his lips, allowing himself to indulge in the sweet softness of her pout in place of desert.

Her giggle is deep and velvety in their kiss, and he finds his heart warm in her embrace. She parts from him, turning around and flushing her back into his chest as the song continues, both of them matching their movements to its rhythm.

She feels his hand explore her curves as they sway, and although he was familiar with all of her crevices, she still feels him radiating with excitement. His hand pushes up to her breasts, fingers pebbling against her nipples. She grins. 

“So do you have it in you to recreate whatever got you off in Curacao?” She mutters steadily as he dips his head to ghost over the skin of her neck. 

He groans at the reminder. 

“Come on,” She pushes, “Tell me what you imagined me doing,” She encourages, twisting in his arms so as to force him to face her, “We’ll do it now.”

He purses his lips as he allowed her to push her hands beneath his shirt and onto his torso. God she felt so warm against him skin to skin. 

“It’s embarrassing.” He states as a matter of factly. 

She narrows her eyes up at him, “Why, is it a kink I’m not onboard with?”

He clicks his tongue, “No,” He denies incredulously, “We weren’t even close to having sex back then - it was a lot purer than whatever you’re imagining in that wretched head of yours.”

She laughs, “Okay, so tell me,” She whines, holding onto the band of his boxers, “Did I slip my hand,” She physically emulates her narration, “In your pants and stroke you off?”

There is a slow grunt he volunteers from the bottom of his throat that encourages her to work her grip skilfully up his length. He was already at half mast when they were pressed up against each other, contact had only made him harder. 

She grins, trailing soft kisses across his chest through his thin shirt. He feels her leaving kitten licks as she works her trail downwards, towards where her hands have been slowly but ceaselessly pumping him into a giddy pile of useless junk.

“Baby,” She coos when she gets to her knees, “Was I down here when you created me in your head?” She questions, abandoning her touch to palm him against his boxers. 

“Do you want me to wrap my lips around you?” Her voice is quiet, and sultry, and it charges him towards a high, “Tell me, what do you want me to do.”

It thrilled him into oblivion how vocal she had become. She had barely allowed herself a squeak when they first made love, all stretched, and full, and coming for him. But look at her now, rendering him useless at the mere sound of her voice. 

“Go on,” His voice is coarse, “Slide me out of my boxers and let me feel you warm around me.”

Her shit eating grin is loaded with mischief as she proceeds as instructed. Her uncoated lips are pink around him as his pre cum oozes from his tip. She drinks it all in as if parched, finally moving down his shaft with an even speed. She guides his palm into her hair, he anchors his fingers into her scalp as he bops her head to a satisfying rhythm around him. 

The moan she exudes sends a vibration through him that almost ends him. She feels herself damp against her own panties as she hears him groan. She can tell when her eyes train up at him, him staring right back down at her in hunger, how grateful he is for the warmth of her mouth around him. 

“Fuck,” He cries in desperation, “Your mouth is my heaven, darling, do you know that?”

She can’t help but let her mouth stretch into a satisfied smile. She reaches down into her own shorts, palming the wetness of her heat as she gets him off. Her eyes close for a moment to sink into her own ecstasy before she is taken by him roughly pulling her off his length. 

“You didn’t come,” She whimpers as she parts from his cock with a pop.

“I’ll come inside you.” There is a shift in his tone that she recognises, it is dark and dominant, “I want you naked on the couch,” He growls, “Now.”

She rips her shirt off in a second, mind drifting back to the pendant as she ensures that it sits in place against her collarbone. He assists her, in his desperate violence, to scrape the material of her clothes off her skin.

“Baby’s so wet for me,” He stares down at her, slowly gliding his fingers against her slick, “You wanted to know what got me off in Curacao?” He asks as he positions his face against her entrance. He licks up her lips once, extorting a little whimper from her.

“Do you want to know?” He questions again, it seems that the tables have turned. 

“Yeah,” She manages a whisper, “Tell me.”

He inches his tongue into her hole, alternating between allowing his thumb to press against her clit and tasting her soft folds, “I imagined that I was between your thighs,” He spits down at her warm pussy, the lubrication allowing his movements to be more fluid, “Your strong, creamy thighs,” His mouth moves to suck at the skin, effectively leaving a mark.

He reaches up as he satisfies her with his mouth, “Fucking hell, my love,” He pants, “You taste just like honey.”

He was filthy. All of him. Her hips buck up at a sensation new to her, his nose digging into her cunt, pushing against her clit that brings her closer to her high. He takes this as positive response and recreates the sensation, lapping up the moisture between her legs while his thumb rapidly rdances across the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

She breathes in loudly, moaning a mixture of his name and just how god damn good he makes her feel, “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum,” She recites, “I’m gonna-“ A breath hitches in her throat, “I’m- Ah, uhh, I’m coming, fuck baby I’m coming so hard.”

Her thighs shiver around him, her back arching up as he rides her into her high. Her body forms waves as she reaches her orgasm. He doesn’t relent as she tries to pry herself away from his touch. Instead, he holds her down with a firm grip, adamant to get every last bit of her cum on his face. 

When she finally relaxes, he peers up at her, nose and chin absolutely glistening in her aftermath. He grins - this was his doing, her all spent, and lifeless, and giddy, and giggling. He crawls up her body planting kisses on every inch of skin. He runs his tongue against her bottom lip, curled into wicked grin, sharing just how sweet she tasted, “That’s all you baby,” He grunts up against her, “That’s all of how you taste like.”

She laughs, holding his face in her hands as she plants kisses on his forehead, and lids, and cheeks.

“Are you ready for me to be inside you?” He checks in, his hardness digging into her thigh. 

She nods softly, “Take me from behind.”

He looks at her, questioningly.

“You said you imagined the pendant swaying back and forth.” She reminds him, “I know it’s your favourite position.”

To be fair, it was her favourite position too. There was just a spot he manages to hit, the ambient sound of skin against raw skin as he violently slams into her, that sends the both of them into a frenzy. He kisses her before he lets her crawl into position; on all fours with her ass in the air and her face in the cushions.

He guides himself against her wetness, her splaying still in her glistening heat. He massages his cock against the softness of her lips, his baby purring as his pre cum mixes with her juices. He inches his head into her slowly, allowing a low grunt to synchronise with her soft moan. 

“Fuuuuck,” She draws out as he fills her up with his entire length, “You’re so big inside me.”

His cock twitches upon hearing the confirmation, she knows exactly how to get him off. 

Her ass is plump and red beneath his touch, they mould perfectly in his palms, and before he starts with his motion, he gives her right cheek a quick slap, earning a mewl from his love.

“Are you gonna be loud for me?” He demands.

“Yes,” She whimpers desperately, “Come on, fuck me already.”

He chuckles, “So god damn needy for my cock, aren’t you?” He asks as he starts to move inside  her. He uses her ass, precious in his palm, to stabilise his motions, slamming into her slowly before discovering a quick rhythm that makes her clamp down on him.

The slapping of skin is drowned out by satisfying moans falling onto his ears, all velvety, and rough, and desperate for him. He feels her pulse around his hard and solid cock, undoing him with every thrust. She feels him reach around for her clit, circling the bundle of nerves to encourage her in achieving her second high of the night. 

He draws out his cock almost all the way out before pushing himself deep inside her, hitting her cervix, “Do you know just how good you feel around me, baby?” He calls out, “You feel so fucking good, always so fucking tight for me.”

Trailing a finger up her spine, he manages to reach for her tits as they swing along with the pendant in their violent movement. This was exactly how he imagined it be. Her beneath him, ass up, head down, cunt swelling with him inside her. 

The thought pushes him off his edge, the bundle in the pit of his stomach becoming undone as he feels his balls tighten, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” He confesses, and he feels her drive back into his cock with a fervent force, “Fuck me baby, I’m coming,” Strings upon strings of his cum shoots into her, “I’m coming,” He repeats, breath ragged and dirty, his seed coating her walls, overflowing so much so that he is spilling out despite still being screwed so tightly inside of her.

He slumps forward onto her back as he finishes. He couldn’t bear to remove himself from her, not just yet. He feels his energy both diminish and reignite in conjunction; oh, if only she could feel the way she pulses around him, making him pool beneath his own strength.

She catches her own breath as her cheeks rest against the cushion of the sofa, feeling him oozing out of her, seed still warm from their tryst. 

He gains enough momentum to pull out and flip her over, reaching up and capturing her lips, “Did you come?” He asks as he settles into her chest, fingers inching down to play with the stickiness that is made up by a combination of them pooling between her legs.

She shakes her head no, but responds with, “We’re even, you already made me come once tonight.”

He grins at her appreciatively, inching downwards to suckle on her tits, something he’d perhaps neglected in their fight for passion. 

“Thank you,” He kisses her chest lovingly, and he knows that she will ask for what, so he says, “For giving me all of you. I love you.”

“Buy me more chocolates,” She breathes out a little laugh, “I love you too.”